Second Chances
by GunnyStacker
Summary: A tale of inter-dimensional war, the admittance of past sins and seeking atonement for them in the face of cosmic horrors beyond imagination. Can the Eldar overcome their own inherent flaws to right the wrongs of the past and work with a besieged aspect of humanity in an alternate reality? ON HIATUS, SORRY.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Greetings to you all, my chosen moniker is** **Gunny Stacker** **. This story is my first here, or at least the first I want to publish for other people to read after having it stewing around in my head for a year. Still keep criticisms constructive and feedback civil. I would like to thank Solvdrage for inspiring me with his story, Chains of the Kindred. The concept of a Halo and Warhammer 40K crossover is an intriguing concept seeing how the universes are both equally crazy-powerful in their respective forms. Here is my take on it.**

Second Chances

 _It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die. Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: The Imperial Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants - and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war._

 _Before Man, there were the Eldar. A race naturally endowed with the gifts of eternal youth, grace of body, wisdom of mind, the ability to psychically bend reality to their will and read the strands of fate that govern all life. An inheritance of innumerable blessings befell them after the demise of the ones that came before them and for millennia unremembered their empire spanned the galaxy, built upon the great psychic roadway partitioned within the warp, known as the Webway. Theirs was a shining example of civilization to which the Imperium of Man is but a bare mockery of what once was. The Eldar's history was a rich one filled with a wide expanse of tales now long forgotten even by the most ancient of their kind. So great they were, that they could see no fault within themselves, blinded by their hubris. A vast many sought out pleasures of greater and greater scale, losing sight of their own souls as darker lusts began to consume all but those who dwelt upon continent sized Craftworld ships that traveled the stars. Only these Eldar could see with clear eyes the shadow that had befallen the once noble race, only they could sense the oncoming storm that would become the birth of another dark god, raped into existence by their kin's debauchery and powerful psychic imprint upon the warp. Trillions of Eldar kind perished in an instant and their souls consumed by the God of their own sins, the Eldar's Empire shattered in a moment and their gods slain to all but a barely existing handful. A single moment creating a lasting impact felt for millennia to come. The surviving Eldar barely hold on to what they have in the face of a hostile galaxy. Some hold to a ridged code upon their Craftworlds to ward against the dark temptations that lead to their fall and safeguarding their souls with precious psychic stones. They use their psychic gifts and what strength they have to protect the worlds on which others of their kind try to rebuild their civilization. Others exist as corsairs upon great ships sailing the great black sea of space, bringing woe to those races who befall of their pirating. The darkest of their kin continue their quest for pleasure through torment and pain based in the Dark City of Commorragh secreted within the tangled passages of the Webway. They are the most reviled outcasts, staving off She Who Thirsts by the vampiristic drinking of souls of other beings. In the modern age the Eldar exist upon a knife's edge, doomed by their arrogance, beset by enemies on all sides, a civilization fractured beyond repair and perhaps redemption. But there is always hope, even in a time where_ _there is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods._

 **Imperial Date 999.M41**

 **Ultima Segmentum**

 **Eldar Exodite World Eq'Hai**

 **Void Stalker Battleship** _ **Herald of Asurryan**_

 **Low Orbit**

Asurr walked the dusk-blue and starlight colored corridor of wraithbone in as great a stride as the gravitic restraints upon him allowed, a scowl upon his faire face as he was lead to the bridge of the vessel he had grown to despise. To any human, an eldar would appear much like them in shape, though of much greater refinement compared to those basic mammals, the mon-keigh. He was of average height for his kind, standing at just over two meters with his slender but hardly weak body. Beneath the sour expression, Asurr was considered handsome among eldar and beautiful by any other species, his face far less bony than his father's was. His skin was pale yet warm, highlighting his eyes, the color of polished high quality jade. The pearlescent restraints blighted the metallic hues of his bioplastic suit of armor. Between the upright bladed wings upon his back-plate, his hair the color of dark nightshade berries brushed at a pair of long force knives that hung unavailable to him upon his belt. Behind the eldar, his guarded escort consisting of Lysandur Nimanthire Exarch to the Dire Avengers Shrine of the Bright Phoenix, ally to House Ythanyll for millennia and a practical godfather to the House's heir. Beside the exarch walked the treacherous leader to Asurrr's Blade Sworn Retinue, and his own actual godfather, Fenryr Wyndrunn, still traitorously adorned with the armor of the Steeleye Reavers. He passed a holographic window that peered out into the void where he could clearly see the six undamaged ships that were supposed to be under his command, whose crews defied his orders to attack and instead gave him up, cowed by a single ship and battleship or not, he believed they should have fought.

The bridge doors opened and before him stood the Ulthwé Farseer Dyresh Ythanyll who had unrelentingly dogged him across the southern galactic arm for the past two hundred days. He stood in his subtly ornate rune armor, a short raven feathered cape hung over his left shoulder with a singing spear held on the same arm it covered and upon his belt a sheath containing a slender curved witchblade. He wore no mask traditional of Farseers upon his face, in its stead was a sheet of material that actively absorbed light faster than it could be reflected, blacker than the void that lie outside the border of the galaxy.

Around him in the half oval shaped bridge it was apparent to Asurr the greater effort put into the battleship's construction when compared to his own vessels. Like his, there were seven stations made in arcing lines on either side of the room spaced five meters from the outer wall, only the computers installed in the were of sleeker and more modern design. Over the whole of the bridge save the floor was woven elegant latticework of webbing platinum wraithbone, flowing down from the highest point and blending the bridge in with the rest of the ship while creating an ever changing mosaic of the cosmos.

"Asurr, Prince of the Steeleye Reavers, how gracious of you to finally accept my invitation." he mocked despite his even tone.

"Do not mock me with your sarcasm. _Father_." He spat with revile.

Dyresh Ythanyll approached, his posture portraying calm, peace and yet Asurr knew it was only a front, a display of his perceived superiority over him. "You think it is ill will that motivates me? I who spent two hundred days pursuing you in order to hold a simple conversation?"

Asurr gave a short laugh. "I need not be a seer to know the future in what you would say, and you as a seer should know my answer. This meeting is only a wasteful expenditure of your time and the resources of our craftworld."

"So you still think of it as home, do you?" His father's question had caught him off guard.

For a second his reply lingered as he analyzed his words, concluding it was the resurfacing of past memories brought forth by his father's presence. "A slip of the tongue, a mistake that shall not be repeated. The same as what should apply to the situation you place us in now."

"I do as what my scryings reveal to me. The strands of fate guided me to here as they did you because my son, you are destined for things of greater importance than being leader to a minor band of corsairs. I have seen runes upon the skein nigh forgotten by our kind. The Expecting Mother, Iliathin holding hands with the child Faraethil, the Springing of the Life Tree, Renewing of The War in Heaven and the Laughing God Upon the Stage. Others and more gather son, and we are to be at the center of whatever event is to come."

"Those mean nothing to me father." Asurr's eyes fell to the floor, his face fading from anger to a look of somberness. "You fight is foolish. The Eldar are over, we have been since the fall but foolishness blinds us to the fact. We fight and we die holding off the inevitable, I knew this every time I looked from our home on Ulthwé to the Eye which marks our greatest failing. Better to be like Ulthyr Ellarion and Yriel of the Eldritch Raiders. Flying free, enjoying life in the moment and praying upon the misfortunes of the lesser races than fight the inevitable."

"Are you so without hope?" His father asked but Farseer Dyresh Ythanyll would receive no answer. "We depart for Ulthwe. Your fleet will be joining us as well. The Despoiler renews his dark crusade against the Imperium of Man once more and our aid will be needed to rebuff his latest task set forth by the dark gods."

Asurr nearly gaged in disgust. "Why aid the Imperium? They are a primitive closeminded race who desire to take eldar life at every opportunity. They are mon-keigh, little better than animals whose claim to galactic rule is an appalling mockery to civilization itself. How many times have you fought them and manipulated their armies to their doom to protect Ulthwé?"

"We do battle with our opponents, but we do not hate them." Dyresh quoted Asurr's mother, a subject which brought the Prince's blood to boil once more. "I had thought your mother and I had raised you better."

"You are not fit to recite those words." Asurr hissed.

The Farseer ignored his outburst, speaking to the battleship's captain. He was a tall man even for an eldar standing at two and a third meters tall with silver hair and vibrant green eyes and clad in ebony armor inscribed with ivory script detailing his many battles, storied in their number. Asurr knew who this was, though he had never had the honor of meeting Autarch Faerelon Voidborn. One of Ulthwé's most respected Mariners, called the Lance Weaver for his actions during the Battle of Kaveltorax. "Captain Faerelon, the Void Dreamers of the Reavers' vessels must be informed our path through the warp takes us through the Maelstrom, this I have scryed and must be so." he dictated.

Captain Faerelon and steersman looked visibly unsettled by Farseer Dyresh's command and they were rightly disconcerted. The Maelstrom was a warp storm unsurpassed save by the Eye of Terror itself.

"Are you certain?" Captain Faerelon asked of the Farseer.

"I speak what the skein reveals to me." Dyresh replied cryptically.

The Captain of the Void Stalker turned toward the three steersman, his posture radiating authority. "Make for the Maelstrom, we do as the wisdom of the farseers reveal to us."

"The capricious madness of farseers others call wisdom. You _save_ me only to drive us through the heart of death." Asurr claimed.

"Nonetheless, it is our path." Dyresh spoke with certainty.

Moments later, the seven eldar ships disappeared into the untamed realm of the warp where emotion was made reality and the realm of possibility was postulated as infinite. This day it would be the crucible to which a new fate would be forged.

 **October 20 2552**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

 **0900 Hours Local Standard Time**

"…That MAC gun can put a round clean through a Covenant capital ship." Bragged the soon to be _Sergeant Major_ Avery Johnson as the dark brown skinned Marine admired Cairo Station's 800-meter-long magnetic acceleration cannon. Beside him in the station's transport tram stood a seven-foot-tall Spartan super soldier clad in a metric ton of olive-green MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor, his face completely obscured by the polarized golden visor of his helmet. To the Covenant, he had become known as The Demon, by UNSC record he was Master Chief Petty Officer SPARTAN John-117.

The reason for he and Johnson's presence aboard the _Cairo_ was for an award ceremony. Almost exactly a month ago they were aboard the Halcyon-class Cruiser _Pillar of Autumn_ fleeing from the fall of humanity's greatest fortress world of Reach. Per the Cole Protocol, the ship's AI Cortana initiated a series of random slipspace jumps as to not lead the murderous Covenant to Earth but instead encountered something completely unexpected. In the orbit of a gas giant laid a massive alien construct created by an unknown civilization. The Covenant called it Halo. At a distance, it appeared as a massive ring technological in design with its diameter nearly that of Earth's, but upon its inner band it contained a vast number of differentiating habitable environment. From his time there it was beautiful and eerily serine but in truth held dark and terrible secrets. The Covenant believed foolishly that Halo was an engine of transcendence that would propel them to a higher plain of existence, they were gravely mistaken. Halo was a weapon, a machine capable of annihilating life on a galactic scale, built unknowable millennia ago by an ancient civilization called Forerunners to combat the nigh unstoppable parasitic plague known as The Flood. In the battle for the ring, the Covenant unwittingly unleashed the Flood that had been locked away for experimentation by the installation's AI Monitor 343 Guilty Spark. The AI construct then almost tricked John into activating Halo to eliminate the Flood threat. Thankfully Cortana was there to stop him. The two then went about causing the destruction of Halo by overloading the Pillar of Autumn's fusion drives and were successful. However, John, Cortana, Johnson and one other Spartan, Linda-058 were the only survivors out of over two-thousand. Among those lost was Captain Jacob Keyes. His daughter would be present in the award ceremony about to take place. John wondered how she was taking the news.

"…Ships have been arriving all morning." Johnson continued unaware to the Master Chief's inattentiveness as the tram approached the platform situated right outside of the primary bridge. A crowd of Marines and a number of camera drones were gathered on the platform, celebrating them with cheers and applause as if they were conquering heroes. "Nobody's saying much but I bet something big is about to go…"

Johnson's speech was cut short as he was bucked out the tram's door and the whole of the station shook around them. Something that should have been impossible in the vacuum of space. The crowd of Marines toppled over, one John saw fall of the platform's balcony to an uncertain fate. The Master Chief only stayed standing in part to his armor's weight which gave him enough time to activate the magnetic soles in his boots. He hauled up Johnson, hooking his arm around the Sergeant Major's torso and pushed forward into the bridge, thankfully the door was still functional.

"Cortana, what the _HELL_ is going on?!" Fleet Admiral Hood's voice carried through the din of chaos consuming the bridge, demanding answer from Cortana who was currently interfaced in the Cairo's systems. John pushed through the door to the wide area at the center of the room where the Admiral stood braced against the bridge's large tactical display. To the left a tiered series of tactical station terminals going four rows up, plateauing into two long observation balconies that flanked the room's sides.

"I don't know sir," Cortana answered as her blue-purple holographic figure appeared upon her pedestal not far from the Admiral. She sounded flabbergasted, panicked, he hadn't seen this since discovering Halo's true purpose. "It's some kind of spatial anomaly. I'm getting all kinds of crazy readings that shouldn't be physically possible!"

A glimmer caught John's eye high above outside the center's windowed ceiling.

"Determine its source!" Hood ordered.

"There." The Chief called out in his gravely monotone, calling out to the area of space where the image of the Ukraine was distorted by interweaving curtains of warping space-time curled around into a rough sphere.

"Can we destroy it?" Admiral Hood questioned. Before he could get an answer, the anomaly exploded, momentarily blinding all save John whose visor polarized to a greater degree to compensate. He witnessed the distortion in space expand in a single violent moment, thin ribbons of electrical arcs and curtains of aurorae filled with colors that did not exist blanketed the adjacent area of empty space between the _Cairo_ , _Athens_ and _Malta_ defense platforms. John saw the black forms of several objects manifest at the core of the spatial anomaly, a whisper in the back of his mind instinctually telling him this moment heralded something of grave terribleness.

The warping curtain of unknown energy that comprised the explosion's impossibly existing blast wave drew quickly upon the _Cairo_. The Chief quickly knelt down and held Johnson tighter. "Brace!"

John felt the energy wave break upon the _Cairo_ and strangely upon himself, like a strong oceanic wave brought on by the tide it washed over him. The Spartan's mind surged from a battering storm of memories, of the countless pitched and desperate battles he fought, of his training in his youth in the forests of Reach with his fellow Spartan recruits and the comradery founded there. And others from before his conscription, his childhood and family, happy memories long buried by the decades. John experienced them all so lucidly and so quick, what was happening?

And then it all left him and the wave dissipated past the Spartan. He stood with Johnson hanging from his arm, the Sergeant's eyes wide and his breathing bordering on a panic attack.

"Johnson!" The Chief called out to the Marine.

The Sergeant's teeth were gritted his teeth and his pupils shrunk into pinpoints. Johnson forced his eyes shut and shook his head, clearing out his mind from whatever experience he was arising from. "Ah-I'm good..." He grumbled. John gently set him down and then moved forward toward the Admiral and a young female naval officer he recognized from her picture in the Cairo's news bulletin as Jacob Keyes' daughter, Miranda. She was young, very young, especially with her short-cut dark brown hair framing her youthful face. Only in her mid-twenties, Miranda Keyes was one of the youngest officer's ever to command a warship. Hers was the _In Amber Clad_ a Stalwart-class Light Frigate currently in moored at one of the Cairo's two docking ports. She helped the Admiral rise to his feet, her hair swinging in front of her pale face which seemed a shade paler from the battering they had just taken both physically and mentally.

"Lord Hood, are you alright?" Keyes asked.

The Master Chief stopped in his tracks as he saw a number of alien ships in the place of the anomaly. Six of them seemed to be of roughly the same design, all having an elongated conical shaped main body and narrow handle shaped aft section, like the handle of an ancient sword. But rising from these sections bizarrely seemed to be one or up to three massive sails of varying length and design. Their hulls were colored black but stood out clearly with the Earth's imposing presence to their starboard sides and they were marked by large artistic runes metallic silver in color. Upon the strange vessels the Chief could also clearly make out a large number of turrets, weapon ports and large underslung spinal guns but these seemed tiny in comparison to the weapons upon the largest of the five vessels. Azure in color, the behemoth the size of a Valiant-class Super-Heavy Cruiser, had a long conical body broken by a horizontal line of weapon ports along its midsection and its aft tailed by four reaching wing-like sails of brilliant luminescent orange.

Lord Hood and Commander Keyes took notice not long after John had and were equally shocked. Hood began shouting orders to identify the ships, fearing the arrival of the Covenant upon humanity's most secreted world but the Chief's attention was elsewhere. Faint glimmers within the bridge near the starboard side door caught his attention, a dread feeling arcing up his spine as his fear manifested into another anomaly, smaller yet identical to the monster one that existed seconds ago in Earth's orbit, only when this one blossomed there was no dramatic detonation, only the formation of a funnel of exotic energy and colors that defied reality itself.

From it stepped creatures the likes of which he had never seen. Three-meter-tall monsters with slick blood-red skin atop digitigrade legs and sharpened three-toed hooves, their heads long, bony malicious looking things topped with a variety of razor sharp horns, black soulless eyes and long purple tongues that flicked from their lipless predatory maws, licking the blades of the wickedly serrated semi-molten onyx swords they carried.

" _Ignorant mortals of this realm!"_ It screamed in a snarling otherworldly voice. _"The walls that bar us from your sanctuary protect you no longer! Thy souls will be consumed in the name of Khorne and your skulls shall decorate his mighty throne! Prepare for an eternity of slaughter!"_

Something triggered inside of John's mind similar to what he had felt interacting with the technology on Halo. The instinctual knowledge of exactly what to do that had seemed so odd to the Spartan. This time he felt no such oddness, his whole body screamed for the monsters' destruction. Before he even knew it, he was charging right at them filled with the most consuming intent to wipe them from existence where they should not be.

 **Imperial Date 999.M41**

 **Sector: Unknown**

 **World: Unknown**

 **Void Stalker Battleship** _ **Herald of Asuryan**_

 **Low Orbit of Unidentified Planet**

Asurr awoke prone upon the cold floor, his head rattled by something that took him a brief second to remember. Using his shackled hands, he rose to a kneeling pose, the furthest he could rise due to the restraints clamped around his ankles.

"As I said, the madness of farseers." Asurr saw his father standing at the fore of the bridge, seemingly unaffected by what should have been a suicidal act of flying through the second most powerful warp-storm in the galaxy.

"I, I know this planet." Asurr could hear him speak softly to no one but himself. "But it differs, it is not as it is. What it should be, it is...It cannot be so but this is no illusion, the threads of fate...I had not expected this. This outcome." The Farseer turned inward toward the rest of the crew and Asurr. "This world is Terra, from its ancient days long before their Emperor will rise to power."

"What?" Asurr asked bewildered. "Navigator, consult your star charts! Disprove this rambling!" He ordered. He was met with look of great annoyance from the violet haired female Navigator, receiving a command from someone who was not only a captain of a different ship but also a prisoner. Nonetheless, she did so if only to confirm her Farseer's claim. A look of shock quickly befell the eldar Mariner's features.

"Autarch!" she exclaimed.

"It is true?" Faerelon spoke, his tone more a statement of fact than an interrogative.

"The stars have reversed their interstellar drift by many millennia. By Terra's date, it is only halfway through its second millennium, but that is not the problem! The Terrible Eye, it is gone!"

Farseer Dyresh as well as the Captain quickly approached the Navigator's podium to witness the data for themselves. Asurr meanwhile waited on bated breath. The Eye gone? How could that be? The culmination of his people's sins, the most awful scar upon the universe itself, missing?

Dyresh knelt over the holographic display and then rose a second later, his posture portraying utter neutrality that did not even hint at any distress. He drew something from his armor, a rune that Asurr recognized as that of Cegorach, the laughing god who dwells within the Webway. Asurr had thought only the Harlequins, those strange eldar who worshiped him carried such a thing.

"I see." Dyresh spoke in a hushed tone.

"Captain," Called out the mariner at the sensors station. "Warp presence has manifested upon the nearest orbital structure."

"We must aid them." Dyresh commanded. "I fear our arrival has brought entities of the warp here."

This brought on a look from Captain Faerelon, questioning if the Farseer had truly gone mad. "The plight of the mon-keigh is of no concern to the Eldar." The seasoned Captain then turned to the male Star Caller at the communications podium. "Activate the ship's Wraithgate, we must send word to Ulthwé. We have knowledge of the future that must be made known."

"It is not activating!" The Star Caller returned with rising distress in his voice.

"That is because no Webway exists in this reality," Dyresh spoke up, calling attention to himself once more. "We have not journeyed to the past. We have entered an alternate space-time, a universe separate from our own where the Webway was never made and likely that the Eldar do not exist." Dyresh held up the rune he had drawn from his robes. "This rune guides the Harlequin Shadowseers to all Webway portals both known and long forgotten, always the presence of the Webway can be felt through it but to me it is inert, dead. Captain, there is no other path to take, fate has drawn us here to the cradle of mankind. At this time, they are ignorant to the perils of the warp, the skein calls to us to aid them."

"Perhaps we were called here to destroy them all?" The Autarch countered. "Snuff them out so that they may not rise to become the brutish genocidal Imperium?"

"I am surprised you would so quickly commit yourself to an act of such barbarity my friend. Lose not the thought that as of now, we are the only eldar. Without port or planet to call our own in a galaxy that I sense is far different than the one we left. It may even be we shall never return to our home. Both they and we are in desperate need of allies." Dyresh advised.

"Prepare the Vampire Raiders and call up our contingent of Black Guardians." Captain Faerelon ordered.

Dyresh turned his head toward his son. "I believe I may possess a more expedient method."

 **October 20 2552**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

A metric ton of armor and Spartan collided with one of the horrors that should not be. It fell back, not expecting the Master Chief to bear such weight. John pushed the devilish sword aside with his left arm while his right fist sprung with the force of a loosed ballista into the fiendish beast's skullish face. He felt the left bone of its cheek crack and collapse, continuing into the creature's eye socket. Its free hand attempted to drive its thorny talons into the Chief's shoulder to no avail as it found no purchase to drive forth upon the golden glimmer of slick energy shields. John used this to deliver a second hammering strike upon its throat, in hopes to collapse the creature's windpipe. Before the Spartan could press the advantage further, the beast tossed him back with surprising strength. The Chief rolled backward a single time before he dug his magnetic soles into the deck-plate.

Behind the first creature a second looked on in thirsty desire for the surprisingly skilled green clad warrior his brother was dueling. Such a challenger was a rare thing amongst humans who had not been transformed into the likes of Space Marines. If his brother Bloodletter failed, he would take up the challenge. If his brother won, then he would try to outdo him in scale of slaughter.

"Hey, Goldilocks!" Came a boisterous call for his attention that drew the lesser Bloodletter to the crowd of soldiers gathering amongst the tiers of cogitators, led by one of darker skin with cigar lit and clamped in his jaw. When he had time to light it beforehand was a mystery even to the warp. "Eat lead!" he shouted as he opened fire with the light machinegun clasped tightly in his arms.

The Spartan was on the defensive now, but he was in his element. Around him the world moved at a fifth of its pace, the cause of this dilation known by his own as 'Spartan Time' an unintended result of his physical augmentations. Ahead of him, the creature was making a furious charge. Behind it, another facing off against a growing crowd of Marines, Johnson lighting it up with a righteous fury only 7.62 millimeter incendiary rounds could provide. Unfortunately, even with the Sergeant's enthusiasm, it seemed to have little effect on the creature and the bloodied bodies of four Marines and Sailors could be seen draped over the lines of computer terminals.

The third creature was drawing upon Admiral Hood and Commander Keyes, a dozen Honor Guard lie slain at the abomination's hooves, the white of their dress uniforms forever sullied as they had given their greatest effort. Miranda had taken up one of their M7 submachineguns and did what she could by firing into the thing's damned face but John was doubtful she would come out on top, these things were damn tough. Both parties were a dozen meters away across the room he had to help them, stop those things. The Master Chief knew what little margin of error there was but he had to try. A single command traveled from his brain through the implanted cybernetic neural lace to his armor, fully deactivating the safety regulators that restricted the suit's full potential. The creature swung its sword in a great arc meant to break through the golden barrier that had thwarted it a moment ago and cleave through John. The thing found little success as the Spartan sidestepped the swing in a ghostly burst of speed, the foul blade of the monster's sword now jammed into the deck. The Spartan moved in without second wasted, taking two great strides up the scarlet limb of lithe damned muscles, driving the ram of his knee into his foe's jaw, reducing it to a bloody slurry of flesh and ebon bone. Forced back by the sheer momentum, the beast was just a second away from losing its balance with a ton of Spartan on its chest, its sword slipped from its talon just as John planned. Bringing his foot in, John then kicked himself away, propelling himself in an arc that threw the battered creature to the floor and the Spartan landing on his feet adjacent to the entrapped blade.

John's eyes fell upon the unearthly implement, its burning accursed runes making every facet of his being recoil, but he had no other alternative and he took hold of the handle.

A raging maelstrom of aggression was suddenly blasting upon John's mind like wildfire. Mindless unending rage trying to overwhelm him with burning hatred for everything and an unending need for combat. Blood, it wanted blood so badly it was an addiction, it didn't even matter where it came from, so long as was spilt by its edge. It tried to force at John's mind to impose its will on him. But he resisted, pushed back with his stonewall determination the decades of service to Humanity built in him. He was a Spartan, the leader of all Spartans and people's lives were depending on him to do his duty.

 _'No!'_ He commanded, pushing the flood of fire and blood back into the sword by sheer force of will. His hand grew tight around the handle and in one clean motion, flung it from the floor up over his head and brought his cold fury down upon his foe, the Daemon who now laid exposed upon his back. The daemonblade came down swiftly into its own master's chest and cleaving down its torso. Shortly theater it began dissolving into smoke and embers.

As one died, four more poured from the portal, coming right for the Master Chief and the Marines. All the while events around him were conspiring against the Spartan. To one side the Admiral and the daughter of the man John had failed to save, and to the other Johnson with two-dozen others, fighting a futile battle against a foe they were ill-equipped to face.

One of the newly arrived scarlet beasts roared an unearthly sound at John, an event overshadowed by the appearance of multiple ripples in reality in the air above the bridge, punctuated by bright strobes of white light.

\Authorized Personnel Only/

Asurr fell through the air and upon the bare metal floor, as did his Blade Sworn Retinue and his father, brought upon this mockery of an orbital fortress by use of the same technology utilized by the Warp Spiders Aspect Warriors. Asurr and his corsairs had used the devices to take the bridge of many a vessel. Never he could have imagined they would be called upon to rescue humans. The Corsair Prince drew his force-saber and shuriken pistol, feeling the taint of daemons near before sighting upon a large olive armor-clad human dueling a pair of lesser Bloodletters, to his shock wielding one of their own accursed blades against them. A third daemon lay split from chest to groin upon the floor, its material burning back into the warp.

The two daemons the Space Marine like human faced were pushing the warrior back though they couldn't seem to land even a glancing blow. This human seemed to possess a baffling speed on par with a warrior of the Striking Scorpions or perhaps even a Harlequin. The human ducked a stroke by one then the other, and swept the chest of the second with the tip of his captured daemonblade, though not enough for a killing blow. The first used this as a distraction, using its warp powers to perform an ethereal dash behind the human.

Asurr took this as his moment to enter the fray, striding forth and loosing a volley of psycho-plastic crystalline shuriken into the soft pit of the Khornate Daemon's side. The beast was knocked from its footing and Asurr vanquished it back to the warp with a sweep of his saber that decapitated it.

The human warrior followed suit, taking his enemy's sword arm at the elbow in a stroke that followed a well-executed, if poorly practiced parry. He spun about, grabbing and twisting the Daemon's other arm back while sweeping out its left leg with a kick to the ankle. The Daemon was upon its death knell when the human thrust the blade down the middle of its elongated skull, the tip cutting out the thorny teeth of its upper jaw as it exited. Even Asurr could appreciate the artfulness of human's execution technique.

Dyresh upon arrival had instantaneously let fly a storm of psychic lightning upon a Daemon about to prey upon two humans, one an elderly man and the other a young woman with a primitive repeating firearm. The Farseer could feel their life-threads upon the skein, the importance he sensed they bore to future events. He would make it his mission to guard them. The fierce gale of electricity fried the Daemon's body, vaporizing with no delay all liquids in its physical manifestation and reducing it to a shriveled blackened corpse. In this way Dyresh brought the Eldar's spite upon the Blood God.

The pair of humans looked to Dyresh, unsure of his intentions and he was quick to give them relief. "Fear not humans, we come to your aid." Dyresh then looked to the wound in reality from which two more daemons came, engaged by Asurr and the tall armored human with the captured daemonblade.

Psychic energy flowed through the Farseer's body, in his mind he chanted the runes that gave design to the energies into a conjuration of great destruction. Before the portal a shining yellow miniature sun formed from the aether. When another Daemon clawed its way into their reality it was beaten back from whence it came by a prominence of psychic fusion energy. The other arm of the Farseer rose, various runes hanging from his sleeve alight as he cast the Force of Asuryan upon both human and eldar alike, imparting a psychic boost of energy to those in need. _That should be enough._ The old eldar thought as he now turned his full attention to the portal.

Ahead Asurr's Retinue lead by Dyresh's trusted friend and his son's mentor, Fenryr took flight on their winged jetpacks as to remove the humans from their line of fire as following the Farseer's condition of their release. The six Corsairs soared over the three daemons of Khorne in this glass box of a chamber. Five streams of super-sonic shuriken rained down from above into the daemons' scaly backs and spines of many sharp ridges. Regrettably, daemons they still were and that of the dark god of battle. The daemons pushed into the crowd of humans seeking shelter among the many bodies they wished to claim. Several of humans fell to the charge, one darker skinned guardsman was lifted by the shoulder to act as a shield for one of the warp entities. The man was however disagreeable to this action, using the psychic bolstering of his strength to jam the barrel of the support weapon down his capturer's throat. Seven burning rounds cut through at the neck base, though not enough to slay the supernatural creature. It chomped down with its terrible maw, shredding metal and composite but enough to distract it. Fenryr swooped in, took hold of the human's arm, and hauled him free, turning back only to unleash a blast of hot annihilation from his fusion pistol to finish it off.

Dyresh chanted in open voice, lines of runes both of raised and sunken relief burning bright across the Farseer's armor from head to toe. His hands were nearly clasped together, the index fingers extended and touching at the tips of his digits shaping a point and his knuckles bent inward but not touching to either hand, creating the Rune of the Eldar. At its center a marble-sized orb or blue light grew with intensity. The remaining daemons shrieked with pain and reeled from the psychic light, giving opening to the humans and eldar that now preyed upon them. The air grew dense with the weight of psychic energy it could almost be tasted. With one final effort Dyresh cast the blue bolt of hyper-concentrated psychic energy toward the portal, first forcing the miniature celestial body through it, ending the argument once and for all of whether there were suns in the warp. The blue orb entered and then detonated with a muted bang, dissipating the doorway at long last. Within the warp its effects were far more felt, its gale casting away all daemons who sought to enter reality within this solar system. With the battle now done, both groups were left staring at one another, unsure of what to do next.

 **Post Reading Note: Well, I hope I've got you interested. That fight on the Cairo's bridge took a lot longer than I thought due to a misconception on my part in how the room was laid out. Please leave a review, let me know what you like and don't like. I did my best editing this but if anyone would like to be my beta, please send me a message. In terms of inspiration for my writing style, I'm trying to draw on Gav Thorpe for the Eldar, Eric Nylund for the UNSC and Dan Abnett over all. Those worried about whether or not the Imperium will be included, don't worry, I have plans for them and Chaos as well. As the story progresses, I'll be drawing on Greg Bear's authorship to give you a hint at what kind of scale I have planned.**


	2. Chapter 2

Second Chances

Chapter 2

 **October 20 2552**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

"Hey Tinkerbelle, not that I don't appreciate the hand but ya mind putting me down?" Johnson requested of the elfish red-haired alien in silver armor. The eldar lowered to the floor as did the others of Asurr's Retinue. Johnson quickly moved back to the bloody scene of dead and dying men. "Marines, we need medics and stretchers in here asap!" Johnson ordered to a pair of shaken but unharmed Marines before pointing to a third. "You, make sure the tram is still operational, we need to get them to the ER right now."

"I will contact my ship and call for healers to assist." Spoke the tall alien in ornate armored robes.

Admiral Hood rose to his feet with the aid of Commander Keyes. "We appreciate your assistance. I'm Rear Admiral Sir Terrance Hood of the United Nations Space Command Navy, representing Humanity and the United Earth Government. You have our sincere thanks for what you and your soldiers did."

"I am called Dyresh Ythanyll, a Farseer of my race, the Eldar. We hail from the Craftworld of Ulthwé where I am member to its governing Seer Council. It gives me a _unique_ opportunity to make your acquaintance Lord Admiral, but your gratitude is not required. The fault of the daemons' appearance I am ashamed to say lies with us. An unintentional consequence of our unforeseen arrival to your realm."

The Admiral's features changed into a stoic expression. "What do you mean? What were those things?"

"It is a lengthy and complex history to retell but I will summarize what I can."

The Master Chief listened from where he stood at a distance as the elf like eldar as the robed alien had named his species lay out a vast tale of Gods, alternate universes and a great immortal battle spanning millennia. An epic if there ever was one. As Dyresh continued, the Chief felt a stirring and a faint whisper in his mind from his captured sword. He looked to it, finding the weapon laced with long branching cracks over the blade. John could tell whatever that eldar did to end the battle, it had a crippling effect on the sword.

 _'Great Warrior, hear me! I ask, claim yourself my master and I will serve you well. You have been bestowed terrible strength and speed, greater than any who hath wielded me before. Let me be your accursed instrument of death and doom and I will show you what power the Blood God can offer…'_

Asurr watched the armored human as his helmet's eyeless gaze look down upon the daemonblade. He readied himself to execute him, knowing how easily his species fell to Chaos' dark promises. Asurr's right hand tightened around the grip of his pistol. The human let the blade's tip touch to the floor, leveling the flat of its side upward. The Corsair Prince was surprised when he then lifted his boot and pressed it upon the surface of the daemonic implement. Asurr watched its cracks grow more severe and break apart slowly from the gradual vindictive increase in pressure. Dust and shards of obsidian metal began to accumulate on the bare metal floor until in one sharply ringing moment it shattered into a myriad of pieces. Asurr flinched when he heard the daemon's death cry in the moment when the whole of its being was shattered forever. Asurr could not think of a more deserving fate for such a creature.

"You did not fall to its temptations?" Asurr asked of this peculiar human.

John let go the handle, letting it clatter to the floor where it belonged discarded. He met Asurr's sharp green eyes and then looked to the scene where many of his fellow soldiers had fallen. "I saw what it had to offer. I'll pass."

Across the room, the daemonblade's psychic death wail had distracted Dyresh momentarily as he finished explaining the nature of the warp, though he was grateful he might not have to destroy that human's mind nor any of the others. Already he had given a summarized, butchered really, explanation of the Eldar and their history, mostly on the Fall. He was welcome to the lack of interruption, a possibility of that being a lingering state of shock in the pair.

"You're saying there's a hellish dimension made of psychic energy where thought can become real?" Asked the female human commander who had named herself as Miranda Keyes.

The older Admiral wore a subdued expression. "As unbelievable as it might seem Commander, we have no evidence to the contrary. We all heard what those monsters, those daemons said…"

"What did they say?" Dyresh interrupted.

"Ignorant mortals of this realm." Came a strong toned ambient female voice. A moment later upon a pedestal a bluish-purple hologram of a woman appeared with scrolling digital code running up and down her form. "The walls that bar us from your sanctuary protect you no longer. Thy souls will be consumed in the name of…I'll just leave that part out…" she omitted. "…and your skulls shall decorate his mighty throne. Prepare for an eternity of slaughter." she quoted.

"Cortana, what's your status?" the Admiral requested.

"Whatever that wave was knocked me offline temporarily. I've been running self-diagnostics until now and am happy to report full functionality of myself and the _Cairo_." Dyresh approached as she continued. "No need to catch me up either, the station's security cameras have covered everything so far." The small woman bragged, looking up to the ornately robed eldar who now stood before her holo-tank.

Dyresh extended his gloved hand to her form but was halted when she raised her holographic hand to his appendage. This roused a bit of humor in him and he gave a slight chuckle. "So peculiar, your mind moves in so many directions and fast, faster than anything I have ever felt. And I have lived a very long time. You are machine, but at once not…" He gave a thoughtful hum, pausing to think. "You have provoked in me a curiosity that has not existed in an age. What are you Cortana?" For the first time in so long, Dyresh was intrigued by something he could not have expected even as a Farseer.

Such flattery brought on a smile that would have been beaming with pride were it not for her own tempering astuteness that reduced it to a shrewd curve upon her holographic lips. "A third-generation smart artificial intelligence. We're created through a complex brain mapping process that recreates the neural pathways into a digital form normally stored on data crystals, if you're curious."

Though surely not as perfected as Spirit Stones, the Farseer could not help but see it as a material technologic parallel to them. And this Cortana seemed to be much more lively than any soul that resided in any of those sacred stones. "An intriguing similarity to be discussed at a later time." Dyresh concluded, sensing the concern in Cortana's mind, emotion being the one thing he could accurately read of her. "What warning do you bring us?"

"Before we started taking on guests, the Io Station detected several slipspace whispers within Jupiter's orbit. I just reacquired contact with the station and I can say with certainty that we've got _a lot_ more company coming."

"Covenant?" Hood asked.

"Who else?" Cortana quipped back.

"How much time do you estimate we have?" the Admiral requested.

The AI paused. "It's difficult to say, the whispers were so much stronger than they are currently but the probes are still tracking approaching signatures in slipspace." Cortana said with a puzzled tone.

Again Dyresh found himself surprised by another curious discovery. "You do not utilize the warp to travel between star systems?"

"Thank god we don't." Commander Keyes stated rhetorically. It was clear she was still shaken by what had happened.

"No," Cortana answered. "Slipstream Space is a dimensional subdomain of alternate space-time. I won't get into the physics right now but yeah, it's how we get around."

Dyresh gave no response as his mind played with the possibility that he may have discovered the technological method used by the Necrons in their Eternity Gate technology. It would be a breakthrough of absolute strategic importance if the Eldar could learn the nuances of this slipspace if his theory was correct. He would need to fully meditate soon to see what paths lay before them on the skein. As refreshing as these new discoveries were to the Farseer, it brought also a feeling of blind helplessness that he had grown to forget from long before he took on the Path of the Seer. With a hand he levitated a set of thirteen runes from his armor, holding them aloft in the air. He dipped a portion of his mind into the skein, a technique difficult to master by Farseers without expediting the psychic crystallization process to a large degree. The two humans looked on in cautious wonder as the gemstones that decorated Dyresh's armor glow with an aurora of color. Above his hand seven of the levitating trinkets became consumed with a color each their own while the other six remained inert. A second later Dyresh returned to what they presumed qualified as his normal and he returned the runes to his armor. "I feel that the warp storm that heralded our arrival blows a gale against them. We have time to prepare a strategy and ready our blades."

"You're going to help us?" asked Miranda.

The Farseer turned his head toward her. "The threads of fate have shown me our place lies here with you. I will contact the ships under my command and inform them of the oncoming battle."

\Allies and Imminent Invasion/

The UNSC learned how quickly eldar moved when they had purpose. The Battleship and three of the other vessels made immediately for the savannahs of eastern Africa where Dyresh had predicted with the greatest probability a ground invasion would begin in the possible future where the Covenant managed to get that far. Why, Dyresh could not say, only sense something of great importance lie close to there. Upon the wide Kenyan grasslands, the vessels deployed a large contingent of ground forces including infantry, tanks, aircraft and even a pair of Revenant Scout Titans. There they would wait under cloak of holo-fields in anticipation for the Covenant's arrival.

Back in orbit Dyresh dispatched his own retinue of Seers to aid him on the _Cairo_ where he saw he would reside for a time. In addition, he called for Lysandur and his Dire Avengers to _Cairo_ along with a squad of Black Guardian Defenders to the _Cairo_ and _Athens_ respectively. He saw they would play a key role in the stations' defense.

As the Farseer promised, white robed Healers from the _Herald of Asuryan_ arrived to the _Cairo_ within minutes. With their gift of healing, they laid their craft onto the wounded aboard. Gashes were sealed and blood restored and in a short time the dying stood without aid and tears of joy in their eyes. The cry of miracle was said many times when their work was finished. A small celebration quickly erupted in the medical bay, giving the Healers bracing hugs and the fondest of thanks to the eldar who were themselves surprised, some pleasantly at the warm feelings offered to them by theses humans. So odd that a longtime enemy was treating them like honored guests.

When Dyresh's warlocks arrived, they had essentially taken over the bridge, throwing out, or in one case levitating out anyone they did not deem absolutely necessary to whatever mysterious preparations they made. Not far from there was an antechamber that led to Recreation R-01 a large hall filled with terminals and vending machines often frequented by reporters and journalists, a place now fortified with heavy combat barriers and M247 machine guns. In the antechamber leading there, the Marines had set up a command post stocked with ammunition, weapons and medical supplies. A platoon readied themselves, among them the Master Chief standing by the door to R-01. On either thigh he secured three M7 magazines in his armor's ammo compartments before closing them and locking the two loaded SMG's to the magnetic holsters overtop them. In front of him upon a storage crate, a disassembled BR55 battle rifle for engagements that may take place in the larger common areas.

The Spartan's work was interrupted by a large group of red dots appearing on his motion tracker coming back from the stairway up to the bridge. His momentary concern coming to a quick end when he took notice of a single yellow dot leading them. The Master Chief turned to see the tall, exotically armored eldar soldiers lead by the Farseer who had shortly after the meeting on the bridge been given an IFF chip by Admiral Hood.

"Spartan, be still." Dyresh approached him directly, his body language moving with intent to some unknown purpose. The muscles in John's body tensed to the nearing of an alien in such a way but the Spartan was able to suppress his own instincts. The Farseer now stood close with an open hand raised beside John's helmet, their two obscuring visors locked face to face at eye level. An accomplishment that no alien had previously survived. The Marines took notice of their new visitors, particularly of what appeared to be a tense standoff between the Master Chief and the alien Farseer. Some looked confused while the majority of the older veterans looked ready to spring in.

"What are you doing?" The Chief asked with neutral tone to hide his unease.

"Performing a passive probe of your mind. You held a daemonblade and though I saw you shatter it, I must be sure you are clean of its taint. Men far older and of far greater physical strength have infamously fallen to their subtle seductions in the past. It spoke to you did it not?"

"I heard it inside my head. Told me about a blood god and that he would give me power." John replied.

"And your answer?"

"I killed it."

Dyresh's slender arm returned to his side, finished and the Master Chief awaited his verdict. "It seems your mind is stronger than most. Yet another curiosity for me to meditate upon…" Dyresh turned his body to the side, presenting with the same arm he had raised to John a moment ago to the two groups of eldar soldiers. One group of around twenty were clad in onyx-black armor topped with a tall swept back conical helmet of a bone hue marked with a black sigil of a weeping eye. Black too was their faceplate, similar to Dyresh's only of a more reflective material than the Farseer's abyssal mask. And distinguished by bright red eye lenses almost the same color as the pear-sized fiery opal covering their hearts. They wore some kind of pack or device upon their backs with what appeared to be narrow air intakes lying over their shoulders and foot-tall forward curving cylinders. In their hands were held strange guns of a recognizable rifle shape, save for the lack of shoulder stock. Their casings bone like their helmets and bejeweled with several jewels of varying size. The weapons were linked to their armor by a thick cord extending from the grip to a device on their vambraces near the elbow. Among them a Warlock stood out, holding a tall spear bolder in its decorations than Dyresh's own ornate weapon, though seeming less graceful. Much like the dress of the Warlock himself in comparison to the Farseer.

The second group only numbered half the first, armored much the same but in a dark blue and helmet the color of snow, these even taller than the first group's with a long firm crest of thick black hair hooking in a forward arc at the top and running down the back of the helm. Their foreheads marked with a t sigil topped with an open centered triangle. From their belts hung a thin sash of softer white decorative cloth marked with the same eye sigil as the black armored soldiers. Over the left shoulder sat some kind of optical device with a violet lens. Perhaps a scanner or enhancing device for their markedly different rifles, these a darker clay color, with longer barrel and optical scope attached.

It was easy to pick out their leader who had a greater number of gemstones and adornments, most noticeably the meter-long gonfalon hanging from a banner pole on his back like the ancient samurai. Upon its azure fabric stood the outline of a bird wreathed in shimmering flames. Another distinguishing difference was golden triangular plate strapped on his chest with another fiery opal at its center. His helmet was a variant on the others, better armored and with a second set of intakes on the sides. The crest too differed with a tricolor of black, gold and bone. He bore on his hips a pistol similar to the one he'd seen held by the eldar John had fought beside on the bridge. Lastly a sword, exotic in its decoration but again of recognizable design when compared to the bizarre twin bladed weapons used by Covenant Elites. A meter and a half long with a single edge and bright red opal set into the blade right before its offset upward curving cross-guard. Upon the vambrace of the left arm also seemed to be some kind of bladed weapon, wide and marked with eldar script and its own set of small stones.

"I leave you in the company of the Dire Avengers and Black Guardians of Ulthwé. They have yet to be fully informed of the enemy we are soon to face and I am told by Admiral Hood there are none more experienced than yourself and Sergeant Major Johnson." And with that the Farseer departed, back toward to the Bridge, John presumed.

Johnson was first to speak, taking the cigar out of his mouth. "How y'all doing? As you newbies can guess, I am Sergeant Major Johnson of Humanity's most beloved Corps and C.O of every fine Marine on this giant-ass gun with a space station strapped to it. If y'all came to fight some Covenant, this will be your lucky day. Come on," The Sergeant motioned back with his head toward R-01. "We'll get you on the terminals in the next room and brief you 'bout our most _favorite_ murderous alien bastards in the universe." Johnson led the eldar soldiers along with the now more welcoming Marines. However, one lingered. The leader of the blue armored soldiers John deduced were the Dire Avengers.

"So it is true." The Eldar's voice was far deeper than the others he'd heard, not as loud as Johnson or graveled as his own but of solid pitch nonetheless and John could tell by the weight in his tone that this eldar had seen an extensive amount of combat. "You slew three daemons and wielded one of their own blades against them. To weather its corrupting influences is indeed a remarkable achievement worthy of praise especially for a human. May I ask your name?"

"Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-One-One-Seven, John." He then added.

"I am Lysandur Nimanthire, Exarch to my Shrine, the Dire Avengers of the Bright Phoenix hailing from Craftworld Ulthwé." The eldar greeted.

"United Nations Space Command Navy Spartan Special Forces. Commanding officer of Spartan Blue Team." John returned, offering his hand where he could not a salute to the fellow soldier. Lysander took a moment before accepting the short courteous handshake.

"You seem to carry favor with Dyresh. He has been friend to me and my Shrine for many of your millennia since even before its inception. His judgment is not to be doubted. I would ask of you what knowledge you have of this Covenant and how to best combat them. In return I shall impart to you the wisdom I have accrued in my own battles against the dark powers."

The Master Chief gave the Exarch a thankful nod before walking to the other side of the room where a tablet computer sat upon another ammo crate. The Chief used his SPARTAN clearance to access the more detailed ONI files, while holding it clear enough for Lysandur to see. "The Covenant is religious theocracy made up of seven species but ruled by only one, their Prophets. Twenty-seven years ago we came into contact and the Prophets immediately called for our genocide, calling us heretical. We don't know why. The UNSC is better organized and use better tactics, but the Covenant has a major technological advantage. They've glassed dozens of planets from orbit and killed billions. Soldiers, civilians, children, doesn't matter." John brought up a file on the Covenant's weakest member species. "Grunts are their base infantry unit, about a meter and a half tall and breathe methane from large tanks on their backs. They're not much of a threat in small numbers but if deployed en-masse could overrun a position. They typically carry…"

\Dad Time/

At an ever growing distance away upon the station's tram, Asurr and his father Dyresh were in route to one of the station's multiple hangars. There Asurr would be ferried to his flagship on one of the human's troop transports. He would have preferred the Vampire Raider that had brought the guardians and aspect warriors here but his father insisted. Oh how he could hardly wait to be reunited with his _Soaring Falcon_ to fly free in the void once more and deliver many angry shots from the pulsar lances of the Shadow-class Cruiser.

"It is a simple show of solidarity with them." Asurr's father explained.

"Are we not already showing solidarity by agreeing to battle this Covenant alongside them?" Asurr snidely replied.

Asurr's father stood statuesque as he gazed outward upon ancient Terra so pristine and covered with green still compared to the polluted monument of cold stone and gold enameled gothic architecture from their realm.

Far closer, Asurr could see the forming battlegroups of dull grey human ships. The Prince saw that their frigates had potential for an elegant appearance but much refinement would be needed, not to mention paint. At the center of one recently completed formation, the Aconite-class Frigate of Asurr's fleet, the _Two Dozen Daggers_ Captained by Makesh Kalbiyor engaged its holo-field cloak. One of many deadly surprises the Lance Weaver had devised.

"We must show we have trust in them and I can conjure no better solution in the little time we have."

"I will happily bestow upon the primitives the honor of ferrying me to my ship." Asurr replied with a false nobility that was almost mocking in its tone.

For the first time since the tram's start, the Farseer moved turning his head, looking over his shoulder at Asurr. "I am surprised you stay of your own volition. Of the possible futures, I thought this least likely."

The prudish smirk on the Prince's face turned neutral, bordering on a frown. "I am no fool, Farseer. I know well no other bastion awaits us beyond this system. I stay for the promise of plunder and the promise that we will soon rule over these humans." Again, his smile grew with his imagination putting the wind beneath his spirit's wings. "I, a Lord Prince of our new navy, waging mighty void battles against the barbarous Covenant. Not quite the exalted position I hoped for in life but one I will still accept with humility."

Asurr heard his father sigh, a frown now fully taking shape on the young eldar's lips as he sensed a lecture oncoming. "Have you been deaf throughout the years without my knowing? For centuries I have endeavored to impart my wisdom to you. Warding against the greatest sin that brought about the ruin of our kind."

"Do not dare to imply I seek the dark pleasures of our corrupted brethren! I would never find revel in the sadism and carnal cravings they awash themselves in! Never I say!" Asurr cried out with righteous indignation.

The Farseer whipped himself around in a rare display of anger. "I speak of arrogance!" He roared out, a low psychic pulse rattling the tram's reinforced windows. Asurr's expression dropped, cowed by the memories of his long ago boyhood where he faced his father for his childish misdeeds. It was rare for his normally patient father to raise his voice, though when he did, he almost seemed a different man. Perhaps at one time he was, Asurr's father was a very old eldar.

Dyresh's posture fell from its poise in an act of self-calming and took a cleansing breath. Asurr took the moment to speak. "But our species is eldest, wisest and most evolved. Our technology is the stuff of dreams to the child-cultures of the cosmos. Is that not arrogance but truth? Are we not the most superior among all others?" Asurr claimed rhetorically.

"A fool would call himself a master for it is impossible to know all." Asurr's father spoke, quoting Asurr's own namesake Asurmen, the first Phoenix Lord and most honored of warriors. "Such a misguided philosophy, the incredible arrogance to say we can do no wrong is the true cause of the fall and the answer to why the Eldar cannot rise once more. The humans' evolution may not be as progressed as ours but they should not deserve blind contempt for it. Are they not still sapient beings with souls of their own? Did the humans inhabiting the maiden world of Tae-leylasatrr deserve to be mercilessly slaughtered to a child by the Guardians of Iybraesil? Do you think my son, that is an act befitting a species who would call themselves the most evolved?" The Farseer countered, before turning back to the window. "The Imperium may be lost to its dogma and closeminded zealotry but look here." He beckoned to his son to come to where he stood near the window, overlooking as the tram passed by a common area filled with a small garden of plants and trees. "A battle station, with its own garden. I have learned the plants you see and many more are from the city that is this station's namesake. It would have been easy for the humans to build this place as a simple sterile environment but they endeavored to bring the beauty of their planet up here through the harsh void of space. Is that not a very eldar thing to do?"

Silence existed for a time until the tram came to a halt at its destination and the doors parted. Outside three human soldiers waited on the platform to receive the Corsair Prince. They wore a differentiating black variant of the armor Asurr had seen the other marines on the bridge adorn, these complete with full-face helmets and opaque visors save the Caucasian one in lead who had his attached to his belt. Upon the large chest plate, Asurr written a set of gothic letters: ODST.

"Farseer, Captain Asurr," The man greeted with a drawling accent. "I'm Gunnery Sergeant Stacker UNSC Marine Corps Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, a pleasure to meet you. Lord Hood asked us to see you down to the Pelican."

Asurr moved to leave but halted for a moment at the door. "I see your point father. It is a thought I will contemplate upon once our battle with this 'holy' Covenant is won. Lead on Sergeant."

\Candygram/

Approximately half an hour later, Dyresh returned to the bridge as he saw he would. Within it his Bonesingers had crafted sets of warp sensory spires and psychic communication nodes upon the balconies on the second level. Cables flowed messily downward into the computer terminals by which they were interfaced into the station. The psychic nodes would be especially important, facilitating the communication with the eldar ships without the risk of the Covenant intercepting transmissions and learning of their presence before the trap could be sprung. Among those computer terminals the dozen remaining humans monitored their own sensors and relayed communications and various updates. Their number almost equaled Dyresh's retinue of eleven seers of various calling. Eight were Warlocks who would use their gift of foresight to aid the space battle. The other two were the Bonesingers who had crafted the wraithbone constructs now decorating the room. Currently, Dyresh saw they would likely bear little consequence to this battle. Lastly there was the lone but immensely powerful Spiritseer Denrya Ynakalos overseeing the quartet of wraithguard who would be dispatched if the battle for the station grew too dire.

Dyresh paused in his step, feeling a better outcome lying on the threads of fate. "Galathriel, depart to the Commons Area G-Zero-One. You will give your assistance to the humans there."

"Yes, Lord Farseer." She replied with a bow from the balcony above before making her leave.

Dyresh's words stirred Lord Hood from his contemplation of the tactical display. "Welcome back," he greeted. "We just got word from your Exarch. He and his squad have reached the power reception and distribution center. Warlock Lenrys also reports his Black Guardians have set up their heavy weapon platform in the portside commons, while the rest of his squad is headed to Section Delta. He's also dispatched three of his Guardians to the Master Chief's position. Personally, I think that its overkill but we haven't exactly had the time to organize how the chain of command is going to work between us, so I can't order him not to."

"Slipspace ruptures. Directly off our battle-cluster." Announced Cortana as she appeared.

"Show me." Lord Hood ordered. On the command stage he and Farseer Dyresh stood side by side, watching the red icons of the Covenant warships appear upon the large transparent screen of the tactical map. Opposite of them marked in blue was the Mediterranean Battle-Cluster consisting of the _Cairo_ , _Athens_ and _Malta_ Stations and the UNSC 5th Fleet under Admiral Harper. The 5th had eight Marathon-class Heavy Cruisers and sixty-seven Stalwart-class Light Frigates, which was hardly something to scoff at even before the eldar had arrived.

"Fifteen Covenant capital-ships, holding position just outside the kill-zone." Cortana spoke, though it was clear as day on the map to the Admiral. "Two CAS-class Assault Carriers and thirteen CCS-class Battlecruisers." Cortana dictated on the part of the eldar, whom had little time to get briefed on Covenant naval technology and tactics.

 _"This is Fleet Admiral Harper, we are engaging the enemy!"_ Transmitted the gung-ho Fleet Admiral.

"Negative Admiral!" Hood denied. "Form a defensive perimeter around the cluster. We're going to draw them in." The communication channel closed and Lord Hood turned to the hologram of the AI. An act of odd respect for a digital being who at this time essentially was, from what Dyresh understood, the entire station. "You have the MAC gun Cortana. Soon as they come in range, open up."

"Gladly." Came her quick reply before her hologram disappeared.

A short pause followed as Hood seemed to be in contemplation, anticipating something different than what he saw. Dyresh as well as every other seer in the room could feel the Admiral's unease. "Something's not right…The fleet that destroyed Reach was fifty times this size."

Before the Farseer could offer his wisdom a naval officer interrupted. "Sir! Additional contacts! Boarding-craft and lots of them!" he alerted. On the tactical map a new series of miniscule blips began flooding from the two large icons that marked the Assault Carriers.

"They're going to try to take our MAC-guns offline…give their capital-ships a straight shot at Earth."

"A foolhardy strategy to employ. Even if they were to break past this cluster, they will have no avenue of escape to resort to. Strange, that it seems to be their intent." The Farseer agreed. "The Covenant will however find themselves woefully unready to face the might of the Eldar."


	3. Chapter 3

Second Chances

Chapter 3

 **October 20 2552**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

 _"All hands! All hands stand by to repel boarders!"_ Came the call over the station's PA System. John walked down the first set of stairs to the fortified platform positioned at the head of the room. There Johnson took position at one of the two light machineguns set up. Ahead down the second set of stairs, a squad of Marines waited behind thick armored plates of combat barriers. To the right half of the room, a large platform elevated a meter off the ground that took up more than a third of the floor space. On its left longest side, it was bordered by four thick pillars and sheets of glass railings in between them. Since glass is a poor armor, the Marines had erected waist-high combat barriers for the three eldar Black Guardians occupying the position.

"How's it goin' Malta?" Johnson asked over the COM channel.

" _Standby…they're latched! Check your targets watch the crossfire. They're in standard formation, little bastards up front, big ones in back. Good luck Cairo."_

John pulled the battle rifle from the magnetic holster on his back, watching as the ugly Covenant boarding craft approached. A long bulbous carapace of ugly purple with three sharp, dirty tan insectoid legs reaching past the prow of the vessel marked with the shut maw of the boarding tube. It left little to wonder why the UNSC had given them the moniker of 'Ticks'.

With a reverberating clang that John could feel through the floor plating, the Tick attached itself to the _Cairo_. Within moments the report of gunfire and the singing of Covenant plasma could be heard in the hallway beyond the blast door. Everyone began to tense as light from a plasma torch began cutting through the lock centered on the door.

"Soon as that door opens, _let'em have it_!" The Sergeant Major growled.

The burning orange light faded with the lock's destruction. Barely a second passed, just enough time for the blink of an eye before the door was blown apart by a breaching charge. The plasma cut through the thick layers of metal like it was plastic, reducing it to thick hunks of metal now scattered about the floor. Johnson and the Marine manning the other machine gun opened up into the billowing fog of burning ozone brought on by the plasma.

Through the withering fire, the Covenant poured through. Two dozen Grunts, now reduced by five thanks to the hail of automatic fire. They began to spread out, using the computer terminals as cover, thinking they would give shelter to the diminutive chimp-like methane-breathers. The Black Guardians would allow them no bastion of relief as they now revealed themselves from behind the pillars. The eldar unleased a shimmering florescent blue volley from their strange weapons. John watched from his position beside Johnson, the Covenant soldiers being shredded apart by the savage cutting effects of the eldar weapons that was devastating the group of Grunts. From their location, they had the enemy completely outflanked, now they just had to hold until that covie boat was out of soldiers to throw at them.

Charging through the smoke then came a pair of Covenant Elites, the other shoe John had been waiting to drop. They were tall saurian aliens, over two and a half meters, easily beating out John's stature, with long digitigrade legs ending in two long and broad toed feet. They were strong, smart and had full-body energy shields like his own, a fight always changed whenever they came into the fray. This pair were wearing blue colored armor, marking them as Minors. Unexperienced and rash but highly aggressive.

One held its plasma rifle high in the air and gave a mighty roar with its four toothy mandibles spread wide from its floorless mouth in a disgusting, terrifying way. John couldn't tell if the Elite was a demanding a challenge or if it was trying to motivate the Grunts under his command. In the end John still opened fire, putting a trio of bullets into its energy shields. Johnson began to open fire with his MG but had to duck a burst of plasma from the other Elite who was pushing down the middle with his plasma rifle blasting an automatic spray of searing hot globs at the mounted guns. Chief poured on the fire from his rifle as did the Marines with their own weapons. Bit by bit they withered down the Elite's shields but it was almost at the foot of the stairs.

John watched as one Marine rise from the waist-high combat barrier with a freshly reloaded M7 and promptly took a blow to the head from the Elite's swung plasma rifle that broke the man's neck. The Master Chief rose from his crouch, putting in a burst that shattered the sangheili's shields, a second set of bullets ended its life with an ascending set of holes through its neck. The Spartan then pushed forward down the stairs to take the position of the fallen Marine. Ahead the lead Elite had taken notice of the eldar and had taken cover behind a terminal as he suppressed them with his needler. Something which the Black Guardians were in no hurry to get acquainted with following their briefing with Johnson. As advanced as their armor was, the super-combine explosion that resulted from taking seven needles was equivalent to a grenade going off at point-blank range. John readied one of his own munitions in return, chucking it between the two furthest back terminals. "Grenade out!"

Two seconds later, the Elite and remaining Grunts lied bloodily perforated upon the deck.

"Clear?" hesitantly asked an Australian Marine manning the other M247 opposite Johnson.

"No, more come!" Called out a Guardian in his distorted electronic voice brought on by the eldar's helmet before they opened fire with their semi-automatic weapons once more and with greater rapidity. Soon it was made clear why as another full lance of Covenant charged in with plasma flying. The Chief's rifle ran dry quick and he was forced to switch to the pair of M7 SMGs magnetically holstered on his thighs.

"Incoming on the balcony!" Johnson called out, reporting the two Elites on the level above on the opposite side of the room. Before John could sight them up, they fell upon the position of the three eldar Guardian Defenders. He heard the same Guardian as before call out in surprise and another get knocked back by what was likely a kick from one of the long-legged saurians.

"Johnson, cover me!" The Chief called out.

"Go!" The veteran marine barked back.

John strafed to the right, firing his left M7 while he reloaded the right. His left ran empty as he bounded up to the raised side of the room. Before him one Guardian was dueling an Elite in hand to hand, and doing quite well as he delivered an agile kick to its face, knocking it back with a light sprinkling of shark like teeth. The other lie pinned beneath the second Elite in a desperate struggle to keep it from putting a needle through the underside of the eldar's chin. To his right the kicked Guardian was rising to his feet and taking aim at the first Elite.

The Chief charged forward toward the imperiled eldar, dropping his left M7 to the ground.

"Retched animal get off me!" The Guardian cried in desperate anger. In three bounds the Chief was there to relieve the eldar of the Covenant warrior's weight with a powerful kick to its chest. Its shields burst in a platinum detonation of energy arcs as the force of John's kick sent it colliding back with the wall. On instinct it threw a punch with its right tetradactyl hand but it was too slow and sloppy against the Spartan. John caught it easily and twisted the limb, a painful distraction while he delivered the barrel of his M7 to the open pit of its left arm. It had little time to realize it before the Elite had its chest cavity internally shredded by a hefty burst of 5mm rounds. The Chief let the body drape over the combat barrier erected in between the pillars while the first Elite fell to fast series of eldar weapon shots that decapitated it. John moved to kneel next to the fallen Guardian. "Are you hurt?"

"No," The eldar replied to the olive clad warrior looming above him. He was then unexpectedly hauled up by the human with a single hand while the other opened up with his submachinegun on the still present Covenant in the room. The Guardian quickly resumed firing and not long after that, the room finally fell silent.

That was until the Sergeant hollered out in his grinding tone: "Chief! We'll hold here and then head for _In Amber Clad_ once you have the Covenant's attention."

The Spartan nodded as he finished reloading his rifle. "Guardians with me, move!" The Chief ordered. They looked at each other for a moment, never getting an order from a human before but begrudgingly followed, seeing no more purpose at their current location.

"Names and ranks." The Master Chief requested as he rounded the corner into the hallway. Ahead a lone surviving Grunt was cowering behind a crate near a scene of slaughter at the end of the hallway. Looks like that M247 Johnson ordered to the bottom of the stairwell worked out well. The Grunt took terrified notice of the Spartan and tried to raise its claw-like plasma pistol. A shot to the head brought an abrupt end to it and the creature slumped over on its stomach, the pyramid shaped gas tank on its back now standing erect like an alien gravestone.

"Arrosan,"

"Belbas,"

"Yradavar, and we all carry the same rank of Guardian. Only our squad leader, the Warlock Lenrys carries an official rank." Came answer to Chief's request as they now ascended the stairwell up to Security Station R-01.

"Who has the most experience?" Came the Spartan's next question.

"Arrosan," Answered Belbas. "But Yradavar comes close at second."

The door opened at the top of the stairs, instantly they were met by the sound of exchanging gunfire. They moved into the security station which overlooked the long room of Commons R-01, seeing a small group of Covenant laying a volley of fire upon two Marines trapped behind a heavy combat barrier. The Master Chief moved quickly to aim his weapon, putting his sight upon an Elite taking partial cover one of the two elevated islands. A pair of bursts made it duck back down. Thankfully someone had set up a mounted M247 in the window, that would be useful. "Arrosan, Belbas, you're Team Two. Man that turret and provide suppressing fire! Yradavar with me!"

"No!" Arrosan refused. "I will not be ordered around by some mon-keigh! And I will certainly not place my hands on such a primitive barbaric weapon. We are eldar, we are your superiors and I refuse to figh-"

Arrosan was cut short as the Master Chief gripped him around the back of the neck and held him out in view of the Covenant occupying the commons. The Elite whom John had shot at gave a beastly snarl and fired a heavy burst of plasma, the bolts barely missing the struggling eldar as he was yanked back by the Spartan.

"Think they care what you are?" The Spartan asked with a stoic, almost patient tone. "Do you think they care that you don't want to be here? Even in armor, we look enough alike that the Covenant will try to kill either of us all the same. You're here, you're in the fight, do your job." The Chief pointed to the mounted MG. "Man the gun."

The fight went quickly after that. The two Guardians provided a base of fire for Yradavar and the Chief to flank the first island via a passage that lead up to it and they were joined by the two Marines in time to repel a full lance that came in from opposite sides at the end of the room. A pair of grenades eliminated the group on the right while the MG kept the second suppressed for another flanking action from the passage behind the second island.

"Team Two regroup on our position! Marines fall back to the security station and hold this area."

"We come!" Replied Belbas.

"Yes sir, Chief!"

The pair of eldar vaulted over the railing in a graceful motion that would put a well-practiced gymnast to shame, landing in a roll that wasted none of their momentum. Arrosan and Belbas reached Yradavar and the Chief's location before the Marines had even made it halfway across. Now united, they rounded the corner with Chief on point, ascending another short stairwell that brought them to the A-01 Pelican bay.

Once again the report of weapons greeted them as they entered to the upper level gantries. Below a vacant docking position was occupied was occupied by half a dozen medium to large cargo containers and a substantial amount of Covenant using them as cover from another of the station's ubiquitous M247s and another Marine wielding an M7. Ahead another Tick had attached itself to the transparent hangar doors and burrowed its boarding tube through the starship-grade reinforced glass.

John's impromptu squad formed a firing line on the gantry and opened up before the Covenant had time to take notice.

"Focus fire on the Grunts!" The Master Chief ordered. From what he'd witnessed so far, the Guardians' rifles were viciously effective against armored infantry but were less than optimal against energy shielding, fairing little better than the M7's 5mm rounds. Maybe whatever ammunition they were using didn't have sufficient enough mass to hammer them down.

John took out the Elite, which caused the Grunts to panic and make for the sealed pressure door. The combined fire cut them to pieces in a matter of moments. John hopped the railing, impacting the floor with a thunderous clang unbefitting someone of his size. The eldar followed suit, albeit with a quieter landing.

John moved forward into the freshly drenched kill-zone seeking several objects on the dead Elite's belt. Something was gnawing at the Spartan's mind, how easy this was going. The Covenant knew how heavily defended these platforms were, so why were they only sending in these lightly armed skirmisher teams? He hadn't even seen an Elite Major yet. If they were going for a decapitation strike, the Chief expected them to send special ops units, not a bunch of rookie Elites and easily panicked Grunts.

The Master Chief rose, tossing two of the objects he'd picked up at Yradavar and Arrosan. "Covenant plasma grenades, they're adhesive. Thumb the rune and throw. You have two seconds before it starts melting into whatever it touches."

"You expect us to use the implements of these barbarians?" Arrosan once again spoke with an incredulous tone.

"Consider it poetic justice." Chief spoke back.

"If you do not want yours give it to me." Yradavar said to Arrosan in a calm voice. Yradavar received no words from Arrosan. The eldar needed only use his posture to express his dismay to his fellow Guardian.

"He saved my life and so has earned my respect. He knows this Covenant better than we and _I_ know better than to doubt someone who has earned the favor of both a Farseer and an Exarch."

"Hey, check it out!" The paler Marine up on the second level called out, unwittingly distracting them all from the tense conversation. "The Malta's already driven off its boarders." The group of four put the disagreement aside and approached the window behind a docked Pelican.

 _"Malta, what is your status? Over."_ Cortana communicated on the command channel.

 _"I don't believe it! They're retreating we won!"_ The officer's celebration died along with him and the _Malta_. A bright pinkish-white nova consumed the station in a fantastical but disheartening display.

"This is bad," The same Marine spoke. "Real bad."

 _"Cortana,"_ The Chief heard Dyresh's voice on the COM. _"Offer us your assessment. What do you suspect was the cause of the station's destruction?"_

 _"That explosion came from inside the Malta. It's fair to assume the Covenant must have brought something with them, a bomb."_

 _"This is Gilfariel, Warlock to the Black Guardians aboard the Athens. We recently ambushed a large group of Covenant. With them they carried a large piece of equipment they treated with great importance. It is likely this was the cause of the Malta's doom."_

Another eldar joined the conversation Chief was unfamiliar with. _"Cairo, this is Captain Faerelon, the enemy fleet knows of their failure on the Athens. They are accelerating!"_

" _We copy Captain,"_ Spoke Admiral Hood. _"You and Admiral Harper have permission to engage! Cortana, prioritize targets and fire at will!"_

 **October 20 2552**

 **UNSC Marathon-class Heavy Cruiser:** _ **Canberra**_

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

" _Registering all hostile vessels within the vicinity. Thirteen cruisers, two assault carriers. I'm going loud!"_ Cortana alerted over the command channel. A second later, a 3000-ton slug obliterated a CCS-class Battlecruiser shields and all.

"Alright, First Echelon you're with me, blanket those cruisers, take 'em out one by one. Second Echelon, keep those carriers busy." Admiral Jack Harper ordered. This was going to be an interesting fight. His echelon of four Marathons and thirty-three frigates against twelve battlecruisers. The two-kilometer-long purple ships, along with practically all Covenant ships had the appearance of some cosmic leviathan with its sleek rounded hull and bulbous hydrodynamic sectioned body, even having twin sets of fins on the bow of the ship that as far as the UNSC knew, served no purpose.

"Two Covenant battlegroups, six cruisers coming right for our formation." Alerted Lieutenant McGuiness, the Tactical Officer. "Plasma torpedo launch! Full spread!"

"All ships prep emergency thrusters!" Harper shouted. Each cruiser carried twelve of the damn torpedo turrets, multiply that by six and that was enough firepower to cripple or destroy his entire fleet. Even from this distance Jack could see the weaving tendrils of guided plasma growing ever brighter. "First Echelon, fire your nukes directly forward of your positions! Mark-one-hundred kilometers out fire!"

Thirty-seven Shiva nuclear missiles soared forth, leaving noxious trails of spent fuel particulate in their wake in the void above Earth. Like hell Jack would let those bastards do to Earth what they did to Reach. Normally Shivas would be used to disable the shields on the Covenant's ships with the EMP and sheer release of energy. Give their MAC guns opportunity to put some holes in the damn things. Right now the objective was just to survive.

A field of nuclear detonations blossomed across the space before them, through it a number of torpedoes pierced through before the electromagnetic interference from the nukes caused them to fall apart.

"Count twenty-three torpedoes still incoming! They bypassed the field by going around it."

Jack bit his lower lip. There was little left he could do to protect them. It would be up to the captains and commanders of the ships under him to survive. If some were fated to be destroyed, then there was just one more thing they could do.

"All ships fire half your stock of archer missiles now. We're initiating the Trojan. Say again, Trojan!" Ahead over fifteen-thousand missiles each holding a two megaton nonnuclear warhead soared forward like a cloud of starlings. Normally, they would be of little effect against the Covenant Navy's vast point-defense system of pulse laser turrets but he had a plan. The question was if it'd work

"Missiles away. Plasma torpedo impacts in ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three"

"Helm, engage topside emergency thrusters!" Jack ordered, his hands gripping the underside of the console as the ship bucked downward, threatening to haul him into the air from the deck. Through all of it he still felt an impact mar his _Canberra_. A second later the maneuver was complete and he could speak coherently once more.

"Damage report!

"Grazing shot, hull plating took the impact but we've lost two turrets." Called Lieutenant Brister at Damage Control.

"Sir!" Called out McGuiness "We've lost eleven frigates. The _Daedalus_ and nine more frigates have taken extensive damage. The _Lima_ is abandoning ship." As distressing as this news was, the Admiral couldn't afford to stop or buy time for them to break off, the only way to win was to push hard at this point.

"Any ships still under power ring formation now! Faerelon time to prove that ship of yours does more than look pretty."

The battered UNSC echelon maneuvered at speed, forming into a rough circular formation with the diameter just wide enough for the manifesting eldar battleship to surge forward. From it, the _Herald of Asuryan_ casted four long white-hot laser light from its pulsar lances and bright blue streaking comets of plasma from its heavy starcannons. The lances did as their name implied, breaking the shields of one cruiser and causing a momentary power surge that disabled its pulse laser array. The five other purple leviathans were able to easily swat aside the barrage of missiles directed at them, but as for the unshielded _Faithful Redoubt_ , it was torn apart slowly as the missiles raked down its surface.

"All capable ships form up behind the Herald, they can't tell where it is but we can. Damaged vessels are to hold position and provide support. You are free to fire at your discretion."

Far to port from the main lines, another powerful beam impacted the shields of a Covenant battlecruiser. On the tactical display the Hemlock-class Destroyer _Spear of Twilight_ had dropped its cloak, positioning itself on the enemy's flank.

" _Zephyr,_ _Midas, Ill Wind, Tortuga_ , focus MAC fire on the Spear's target. Gut the bastard. Weapons, fire our double-MAC at the Herald's target."

Two tungsten slugs from the _Zephyr_ impacted the cruiser's shields at almost light speed. The battlecruiser was bucked off course from the sheer kinetic impact but its shields held until the third slug hit it belly-on. _Spear of Twilight_ let fly another lance, carving off a massive chunk of the Covenant ship's bulbous starboard side amidships while the fourth MAC slug from the frigate _Tortuga_ tore apart its repulsor engines with a final lance hitting home on its reactor and the ship bloomed into a destructive nova.

Far away the eldar Eclipse-class Cruiser: _Quicksilver Chariot_ made its presence known as it uncloaked near the fighter-spewing assault carriers to launch several waves of Darkstar Fighters in conjunction with the Longswords launched from the cruisers of Admiral Harper's Second Echelon. The eldar ship's speed must have surprised the Covenant as it dodged several plasma torpedoes while it surged toward the second carrier to unleash three squadrons of Eagle Bombers into the carrier's cavernous main hangar that drooped open like the mouth of some massive filter-feeding ocean dwelling lifeform.

Meanwhile Captain Faerelon was laying on the Herald of Asuryan's wrath, hammering the shields of four battlecruisers with its lances and starcannons while the mirage inducing holo-field played hell with Covenant plasma torpedoes as they looped almost endlessly in attempt to pierce the veil of illusion. Jack could only imagine how much that was pissing off the split-lips.

 _Canberra_ fired her twin cannons, shattering the shields of one of the Herald's targets, opening its nanolaminate hull to the destructive micro-novae of the starcannons, bringing the enemy count down to three.

" _Captain Faerelon, Admiral Harper,"_ Communicated the Farseer aboard the _Cairo_. _"The remaining battlecruisers will soon break off to engage your ships. You must end your fight soon or you will be at a disadvantage."_

"Copy that. Alright, let's finish these bastards off. All ships fire at will." Jack ordered.

" _Prince Asurr, move forward with the Two Dozen Daggers, you are free to attack upon your own judgement. Captain_ _Talduin,_ _prepare Shadowflame for ambush._ _Captain Ashevae_ _, take Spear of Twilight to the location of the damaged human ships, they will need your pulsar lance if the enemy targets them. Descent of Swords, join her as well!"_ Faerelon commanded.

"Alright people, let's show them the door!"

 **Habitat Gamma**

 **Commons G-01**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

On the opposite side of the station from the Master Chief's location, Gunnery Sergeant Stacker and his ODSTs were fighting a battle of their own. They had been assigned to guard Commons G-02 but were forced to fall back to G-01 where the rest of the Guardians had set up due to a hail of plasma grenades. Stacker and his squad had positioned themselves behind the closest island while two Guardians on their left had a heavy combat barrier to shield them. Ahead two full lances of Covenant were bearing down on them from the opposite end of the room.

Stacker ducked his head back under cover of the island as a barrage of plasma bolts tried to claim it from him.

"Damn it I said to take out that gun!" He roared up at the eldar in the security station manning the levitating grav platform mounted with what they called a shuriken cannon.

"Do not raise your voice at me human! With each retched creature that falls, another takes its place!"

"Then break the damn gun! You want me to hold your hand sweetheart? O'Brien pop smoke, engage VISRs!

The ODST Irishman pulled a pair of cylinders from his belt, popping the caps and mashed the primers before lobbing them blindly over the island. Stacker counted to six, allowing the smokescreen enough time to build up.

"Lance Corporal Jones, show our guests how it's done. Everyone else suppressing fire!"

The four ODSTs, Stacker, O'Brien, Butkus and Walpole stood with rifles braced overtop of the island, ahead their VISRs outlined in red the roughly two-dozen Covenant foot soldiers firing blindly through the haze. The four battle rifles drummed out a continuous staccato of gunfire joined by the higher pitched singing of the two Guardians odd rifles and lastly the thrum of the shuriken cannon, creating a peculiar melody of war that would exist for this moment and this moment alone. Many of the enemy's Grunts fell low to their hailstorm of bullet and blade that pierced through the obscuring cloak.

Jones locked the bipod on his SR99 Sniper Rifle, bracing it on the island's floor plating as he sighted the outline of the Grunt manning the plasma cannon up in the security station opposite of where the eldar had set up their own gun or whatever the hell it was. It was a shot he had made before dozens of times but this would be the first where he couldn't directly see the target. A single shot rang out in undertone to the climactic explosion of the cannon's plasma tank.

"Target down!" Jones called out to his C.O.

"Damn fine job Trooper." Stacker congratulated. "See? Wasn't that hard. I think you need to practice your aim eldar!" The Gunnery Sergeant said smugly.

" _Imps!_ " Roared out an alien voice that could have only come from an Elite. "You think you can hide from our righteous fury? You will burn before our holy flares!"

"Shit, grenades!" Butkus called out.

From the smoke came a deadly meteor shower of florescent blue glowing orbs. "Get cover!" Stacker called out. His squad and the pair of Guardians hid back behind their respective shields as the rain came. A series of fiery blue detonations rocked the island the ODSTs were hid behind, burning the air into noxious ozone filtered out thankfully by the ODSTs' helmets.

"Grenade spamming MOTHERFUCKERS!" Accused Butkus for the second time today.

From cover Walpole caught sight of one the spheres landing just three meters behind their position. "Fuck!"

The ODSTs only had a second to put their backs to the explosion and shield their heads before the grenade blew a broiling wave of heat over them and singed their armor with licking flames of plasma. Damn, Stacker was grateful that those things were mostly flash and no bang unless you were right on top of it. If those munitions had a real shock wave, their organs would be mush right now. The Gunnery Sergeant looked up to see how the eldar were fairing, just in time to see the grav platform get stuck by one of the deadly little florescent orbs.

"Get off the gun!" He yelled a microsecond before the alien mobile emplacement was consumed by a miniature nova.

"Charge brothers! Slay the heretics!" Roared out another Elite, or possibly the same one. All Elites sounded like they were in dire need of a lozenge.

"Up! On your feet everyone!" Stacker yelled as he did so himself. He'd brought his rifle up halfway when a sword wielding alien crusader jumped up on the island through the grey haze. Stacker could see the spittle on the beast's toothy mandibles and the look of hatred in its slit reptilian eyes. The majority of the squad jumped back save for Jones and his sniper rifle, the only gun they had that could two-shot the squid-heads. The marksman swung his rifle up once more only to have the barrel cut in half by the burning plasma blade with Jones throwing himself back on instinct to avoid being cut in half himself.

Landing on his back, he quickly brought the damaged weapon to his shoulder and fired his remaining two shots at the Elite past the still molten new muzzle of his rifle. The first 14.5mm miniature tungsten spear broke its shields while almost knocking the Elite off its balance as the second tore through its ribcage.

"Fall back!" Stacker ordered as five more white-hot plasma blades were materializing from the smoke.

O'Brien moved to grab his floor bound squad-mate by the back of his armored collar while Jones ditched his damaged rifle and drew his magnum.

The eldar Guardians joined the squad in a quick dash as they moved to fall back to the stairwell. Both races worked together to lay down a covering field of fire but the Elites were charging too fast to break their shields in enough time. One red armored Major was almost upon them when he suddenly became awash with a storm of electricity.

From the security window, an eldar in black robed armor fell with uncanny grace to the deck with a massive sword in hand. The exotic black blade glowed with a blue aura along its edge which was delivered clear through the chest of another Elite just as the first fell to the floor with charcoaled armor and skin.

"A human witch!" One of the aliens snarled.

The human and eldar soldiers continued to pour steel and crystalline shuriken down range, careful not to hit the Warlock who now withdrew her blade with a following flourish that decapitated the dying Elite. Another came, launching himself from a large planter through the air. The Warlock reached out her left hand at the Elite, entwining him in an invisible psychic hold and threw so-called holy warrior into the wall behind with an impact that left a broad purple stain of its blood upon the wall before she let it fall upon a long planter. Its blood would now nurture the leafy plant its corpse now lay beside.

The collective volley of fire broke the shields of the last Elite and Jones followed through by knee-capping it with his trusty magnum.

The alien collapsed on the floor with its deactivated sword skittering away from its grasp. The Warlock approached as the reptilian crusader brought himself into a sitting position right where Stacker had been moments ago. The Elite hurriedly took hold of Jones' discarded SRS99 in desperation, only to have the trigger to offer a lonely click.

"It's empty dipshit," The ODST said as he stood himself.

The Elite threw the rifle against the wall in frustration accompanied by a snarl. "I always believed the Prophets were correct in their judgment of your race but now it is certain. To see you would practice foul sorcery and condone witches in your ranks speaks to the impurity of your souls!"

"You know nothing of damnation, you misguided creature." Spoke the Warlock, her voice melodic even through the helmet's synthesizer.

"Speak not your sinful whispers to me human witch! I am destined for the Great Journey as are all who walk the Sacred Path! It is our holy duty to bring suffering to your abominable race before we scour you from the cosmos!"

"You think your damn religion gives you the right to murder innocent people?" Jones said followed with a grunt. "And you call us abominations?"

"Heretics deserve no pity or mercy vile filth." It snarled back.

"I have heard those words before," The Warlock spoke again. "It is humorously ironic given the circumstances but I detest them no less. In this moment before your demise I will deliver to you, the truths I have learned: Zealotry permits persecution. Faith breeds ignorance. Holy men make wars. And their puppets make misery for all." The eldar woman lectured as she drew the ornate gold and bone pistol from the pouch at her side. "You will not die today a blessed warrior, only a trained beast whose claws are stained with the blood of innocents."

One sharp note rang out as the Elite's murderous life was brought to an end.

Stacker walked up to the Warlock. "Appreciate the help ma'am, if you didn't show up when you did…well, I'd rather not think about it." He said while the eldar was holstering her sidearm.

"Your gratitude is appreciated Gunnery Sergeant but my Farseer is the one who foresaw your distress."

"We appreciate the help nonetheless."

One of the Guardians interrupted. "Above from where you came, one of our squad was at the shuriken cannon when it was struck by a grenade."

"He survived but has been injured. I have called for a Bonesinger serving compatriot to me in my Farseer's retinue, she is on her way escorting a Healer accompanied by a Marine medical team. They will ensure your comrade will survive."

"Thank you."

Stacker turned to address the two Guardians. "Why don't you two hold the position and keep an eye on your buddy. My squad will move on and advance to the starboard loading bay now that we got fewer houseguests in our way." One of the Guardians gave a nod in return. Perhaps in thanks or merely recognition to the human's words. "Alright troopers, let's move out to the armory to load up. O'Brien, you've got point."

"Sir!"

The ODSTs began to move out, surprisingly with the Warlock accompanying them.

"Uh, ma'am." Spoke Stacker. "I was under the impression you were going to stay here with your people."

The eldar carried no difference in her posture or pace as she talked. "My Farseer directed me to ensure the safety of you and your men. I do not dare deviate from his instructions until informed otherwise."

"Well if you insist, I can't really stop you. Can I get your name ma'am?"

"Galathriel, Warlock to Farseer Dyresh Ythanyll."

With a half raised eyebrow the Gunny then asked. "So is that your first name?"

"The eldar do not dabble much in honorifics. Galathriel is my first name and it is considered polite to address me as such."

"Gunnery Sargent Stacker. Nice to meet you."

 **October 20 2552**

 **Uncharted Space**

 **Far Side of the Galaxy**

Ahead he could see it, the object which would bring about the Sorcerer's ultimate goal. The first step in a complex plan. He was Ahzek Ahriman, the greatest sorcerer the galaxy had seen and Lord of the Prodigal Sons. It had taken tremendous psychic power and the lives of many psykers to rend a stable portal through to this reality and bring the nine ships of his fleet through. He was glad he was able to mobilize his warband so quickly, though he still felt suspicion toward the source of the knowledge. The Lord of Change Mith'an'driarkh had visited Ahriman in one of his many temples that he randomly moved between and in a secreted sanctum no less, bringing him word that the barrier separating these two realities had been broken unwittingly by the Eldar of all things. Only in one text had Ahriman even found obscure hint at this realm's existence. An ancient tome written by a half-mad Lord of Change before departing down the Well of Eternity, never to be heard from again. The tome spoke of 'the silver realm' and 'great circular swords' from an age immemorial even to the warp.

But Mith'an'driarkh had used that term, 'the silver realm' and gave to him the knowledge of where his hopes to gain entry to the Black Library might lay. But to do that, he knew he would need considerable distraction bought by fools whom only need whispers of paltry promises to motivate them.

So this is why he sat on the command throne aboard his former chapter's Battlebarge, the _Photep_ , reclaimed from the Thousand Sons. Two other battleships and five cruisers he had also acquired through his machinations, with a proper strategy it would be enough to take the great ring that sat before him.


	4. Chapter 4

Second Chances

Chapter 4

 **October 20 2552**

 **Habitat Bravo Umbilical**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

"Grenade out." Chief announced a second before he chucked the fragmentation grenade around the corner into the corridor which lead to the station's port umbilicals where _In Amber Clad_ was docked. The Marines had done a decent job of holding the Covenant at bay but against three Elites and a full lance of Grunts, they could not have lasted much longer.

The Spartan heard the telltale skittering of the grenade soon followed by the cacophonous boom. "Go!" he ordered to Belbas and Yradavar. The latter eldar performed an acrobatic flip landing himself behind cover of a nearby crate while Yradavar opened fire with a fully automatic burst of shuriken. Belbas soon joined knelt behind the crate with his rifle braced atop it. John heard the death-cry of an Elite accompanied by the blood choked gurgles of eviscerated Grunts.

The deeper voiced Belbas then called out to John and Arrosan still in cover "They are pulling back!"

"Advance! Wedge formation." The Chief barked. Together with Arrosan they rounded the corner, rifles at the ready. Joined swiftly and seamlessly with the other two Guardians as if they had together practiced the maneuver for years. At a steady pace they worked their way down the hall whilst laying a cascade of precise and continuous fire upon the enemy. Grunts fell first to the eldar rifles before joining the Master Chief who placed himself at the tip of the spear in focusing on the Elites.

John put a three-round burst into the needler held by an Elite, inadvertently rupturing whatever ammo-feed system existed within the weapon and causing a violent explosion amongst their ranks. With two final flights of shuriken into the skull of an Elite from Arrosan's rifle, the section fell silent save for Admiral Hood's voice over the PA System calling for a squad to reinforce Habitat Delta.

"Is it clear?" Called out a Marine standing all the way back at the entrance to the umbilical connected to _In Amber Clad_.

Belbas answered him. "The enemy lie slain!"

The Master Chief eased his stance. They would make their way to Portside Shipping next and if that was clear, move on the Section D-01 until they made contact with the rest of the Guardian squad. He was curious how Lysandur and the Dire Avengers were doing.

"Lysandur, what's your status?"

 **Power Reception and Distribution**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

The Exarch swept his great diresword between the parting of the Elite's energy sword. Turning its means of disarming an opponent into his exploitation. The Exarch's power weapon sliced through the hilt and up the arm and he followed through with a thrust. With his previous two kills he had learned three things: The first was that these Elites took delight in duels, them igniting their own exotic and to a degree beautiful swords upon sighting Lysandur's own. The fact that his own diresword could parry the energy blades was the second. Thirdly, their shields shielded them little to the biting field of disruptive energy.

Lysandur's blade pierced through the Elite's chest and spine for the killing blow. As he let the fresh corpse fall he scanned for further targets around.

The room his shrine had taken the duty to guard was vast with tightly packed together transformers and regulators and other various equipment pertaining to the powering of the ludicrously large coilgun that shook the station now and again. Both above and below too was a busy mess of organized disorder held together by maze of heavy support beams, gantries and ladders. The one open area was bordered off from the electronics around by a low wall of computer terminals positioned not far from the single entryway into the sector under watch by the Shrine of the Bright Phoenix. Lysander had made sure his Dire Avengers exploited a great many of these concealing alcoves to the enemy's misfortune, turning the one open area into a kill-zone.

That last group had put up a valiant charge in their attempt to sabotage the main control panel. The one which governed the wireless reception of the energy transmitted to the station from the generator complex far below on the Earth's surface.

That he, an Exarch had been forced to intervene, was a testament to the tenacity of the Covenant's soldiers.

"We fair well here Master Chief. The shuriken of our _tuelean_ cut through the Grunts with ease but find resistance to the energy shielding of the Elites."

" _Might be due to low mass of whatever material you're using for ammunition."_

"I surmised as such. We have switched our weapons to automatic fire. It…"

Before the Exarch could finish, the station's Artificial Intelligence interrupted him with urgent news for all important parties. _"Sir. Boarders have reached the fire control center. They have a bomb."_

Lord Hood then entered the conversation. _"Can you defuse it?"_

" _Yes, but I'll need the Chief's help to make contact with the detonator."_

" _Chief, get to the bomb. Double-time!"_ The Admiral ordered.

" _Copy. Sierra-One-One-Seven out."_

 **Eldar Shadow-class Cruiser** _ **Soaring Falcon**_

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

Asurr took control of the ship's helm directly, melding his mind with his vessel, seeing the space around in full 360 degrees from the viewing stones mounted to the hull. Upon his skin he felt the sun upon its sails, the fiery force of its thruster and the warming lances upon the prow. Ahead the three remaining battlecruisers were still coming undeterred by the loss of their comrades. Admirable but foolish.

Asurr communicated through the ship's living psychic network to the Star-Caller, order Captain Galenseth to match speed as best they could. Together they would uncloak the moment they were within seven kilometers of the Covenant ships and bear lances against the barbarians.

 _Yes, my Prince._ Came the simultaneous replies from Fovae and Morlion through the network.

Asurr shook the reins on his celestial steed, pushing it to its top speed. Drawing ever nearer were the six ugly purple ships resembling in Asurr's mind some alien phallus. Perhaps they were modeled as such, it would not be surprising from a culture that endorsed ritual mass genocide and the devouring of sapient species.

 _Prepare portside torpedoes we will together target the outlying vessel on the starboard-side of their formation._

The distance shrunk to the seven kilometers by the time Asurr had finished his sentence. The holo-field cloak fell away as the clear waves withdraw from a shoreline on a summer's day. The two vessels now revealed and at what in naval terms was point-blank range, drove twenty-three burning lances into its quadruple-finned prow in simultaneous volley. Platinum-blue energy shields brightened, then flickered before collapsing in the span of 1.4 seconds. Twenty-one torpedoes launched automatically from the Soaring Falcon's port side.

The Corsair ships peeled away, continuing their speed to avoid counter attack. Asurr looked back through the viewing stones in cavalier desire to see the vessel he had vanquished. To his astonishment finding it not in pieces as he had envisioned, but merely wounded and bleeding plasma into the void.

"How is that ship still alive?" Asurr questioned out loud, unintentionally disrupting his own concentration and threatening to break his meld prematurely.

Morlion was quick to reply. _It seems even with our ability to scramble their guns' sensors, they bear so many that only two of our fusion torpedoes hit successfully with another two being detonated by pulse-laser fire just prior to impact._ The Dragonship _Shadowflame_ too had tried to lay an unsuccessful strike against another cruiser, only to weaken its shields.

Asurr watched from a distance as the ship that was rightfully his quarry get torn asunder by the proto-nova cannon of one of the humans' heavy cruisers. Then with one unified barrage from the _Herald of Asuryan_ and the UNSC echelon, the two remaining battlecruisers of this group were annihilated.

" _Soaring Falcon and Two Dozen Daggers, regroup with the fleet, we move to strike at the six…"_ The Autarch corrected himself as the cannons of _Athens_ and _Cairo_ reduced that number by two _. "Four remaining battlecruisers. Shadowflame, resume cloak and await orders."_ Captain Faerelon ordered.

Dejected from his lack of a successful opening action, Asurr ended his union with the ship. "Steersmen, you have control. Bring us in a loop around to rejoin the fleet. Fovae, communicate my satisfaction with Captain Galenseth. It was an admirable effort." Asurr activated the holographic projector on the arm of his sage shaded throne. Light weaved a schematic together of one of the enemy's battlecruisers, reacting with a thought from the Prince to zoom in on an open section of its hull. Revealed were the stubby two-meter-long apertured poles protruding in the hundreds across the ship. Asurr had assumed the reason why these humans fired extensive volleys of missiles was due to their lack of built in electronic countermeasures but it was apparent Asurr had misjudged. With the Covenant's powerful shields and all-encompassing point-defense network. It was easy to see why these humans favored their spinally mounted magnetic cannons which with brutality could hammer the shields into breaking and then tear the vessels asunder with ease. Such tactics, a barbaric slugging match was unbefitting of any eldar. Here, there seemed to exist no path to victory of greater elegance, how depressing for the Corsair.

Asurr's brooding turned into a ponder. He accessed the memory crystals of the _Soaring Falcon_ , psychically replaying the events of the last battle. Three and four times he watched it until the Prince noticed something, a chink in the Covenant's armor. Within a few seconds Asurr had a plan.

"Captain Faerelon." He communicated to the _Herald of Asuryan_ and the _Canberra_. "I believe I have devised a stratagem to remove the obstructions marring our path to the carriers."

"Explain." Was Admiral Harper's reply while Faerelon remained silent.

"I have no time to." Asurr offered for poor explanation. "We will soon be in range of their torpedoes and by then we will be to slowed to catch either of the carriers. Admiral, I require seven of your frigates to accomplish what I have in mind. I give you my word as a Corsair Prince that they shall come to no harm."

There was a silence. _"Go."_ He heard Captain Faerelon say. _"Admiral, lend him your ships. He may be brash, but he is still his father's son and a fine Mariner."_

There was a grumble of hesitation from Admiral Harper. _"You better be right about this. Midas, Ill Wind, Tortuga, New Sun, Jester, Plymouth and Blackjack form up on the Soaring Falcon, I am placing you under his command temporarily."_

Asurr grinned, animalistic though it was, he could not help himself. "I shall succeed! Helm break off to port from the fleet." The seven frigates joined up immediately in a classic staggered line formation while the First Echelon began moving to intercept the carriers. "All ships, maximum thrust! Prepare all your weapons. Steersmen, plot a path that takes us around to the enemy's starboard side."

"Yes my Prince."

Asurr then opened a channel to the _Cairo_ , more importantly, his father who shortly appeared on the holographic projector with Admiral Hood.

"Father," he paused summoning up the inner strength he needed for this. "I am in need of your assistance and that of your Warlocks as well."

" _What do you require of us?"_ His father replied. Not his father the man, but his father the Farseer. Stoic and distant with his mind split between the many fates and the present time. That would make this slightly easier.

"It is for a complex maneuver I have devised to eliminate the remaining four battlecruisers in one great thrust of the blade. For it to achieve greatest success the talents of the seer are called for. I have observed from the Covenant ships that when their weapons fire, a small portion of their shield must be lowered. The seven frigates under my command must have foresight when openings will occur at vulnerable parts of the battlecruisers. We will loose a volley of missiles shortly to draw out their laser defenses. My Falcon can attack one of the vessels unassisted, the frigates must destroy the other three."

 _"Proceed, we shall look upon the skein and give them guidance."_

The rounding arc Asurr's strike force made was closing its gap fast with the Covenant battlecruisers. They had altered their formation with three of the vessels forming a wedge while presenting their broadsides. One ship made the wedge's tip while the other two positioned themselves further back, marking the outer ends of the triangle. The last battlecruiser had positioned itself forward of the formation on a middle plain between the closest and furthest vessels. The moment Asurr's vessels were in effective range, the Covenant cast twelve of their serpentine cords of plasma.

"Frigates! Move as close as you can to my vessel! Our holo-field will give you cover. Morlion, increase the power to the holo-field and have three vortex torpedoes loaded into the prow tubes and fusion torpedoes in the aft tubes."

"But my Prince-"

"Just do it."

Around them the enemy torpedoes struck like vipers at the illusory field. Each one found no mass to boil away at on hull of wraithbone or titanium and now Asurr's force entered their own effective range.

"Attention frigates, you will be receiving target coordinates for your cannons from the Warlocks aboard _Cairo_ , follow their instruction to the letter or our strike will fail. Upon my command each ship will unleash a third of their missiles. _Cairo_ , we are commencing fire now. All ships fire your missiles now!"

Well over a thousand archer missiles flew forth from the shimmering cosmic mirage. They traced almost beautiful symmetrical lines with the exhaust of their spent fuel before scattering halfway to the targets. The machines did their best to make random maneuvers with their thrusters but it was a pointless effort so it seemed. Upon the foremost vessel, the Battlecruiser _Pious Inquisitor_ , a section of shield lowered for a pulse laser turret on the base of the ship's neck separating the 'head' from the amidships. Before the particle weapon could even charge it was struck by a six-hundred-ton slug of tungsten. With an open gap, it was able to pry it wider through sheer kinetic force. In the span of .27 seconds it tumbled sideways while holding velocity to rip through absolutely everything in its way. Any living being caught in the path died before it could even register. By the time the round exited, it had done enough damage that the Pious Inquisitor's front third was breaking off and shields failing from a second shot delivered by the _Plymouth_ to their pinch-fusion reactor.

The battlecruiser to the lower port side of the _Pious Inquisitor_ suffered a similar fate, taking three direct MAC strikes that shattered the vessel into many hundreds of pieces.

Asurr's own Cruiser opened fire upon the starboard-most Battlecruiser which was charging another volley of plasma torpedoes. The Shadow-class Cruiser speared the exposed bulbous antennae with its light speed pulsar lances. More lances were struck as the battlecruiser's pulse lasers automatically activated to the volley of archer missiles directed its way, with one lance striking a partial hit on the main reactor. This hit made during a plasma torpedo charge sequence when the draw on the reactor proved a recipe for a catastrophic detonation, leaving little but a cloud of component atoms scattering across the void.

"The last Battlecruiser has not attempted to shoot down the missiles!" Morlion alerted though Asurr was well aware of the development. It was one he had expected might occur and had planned accordingly for.

"Fire bow torpedoes!"

"Away!" Morloin confirmed without a second's hesitation. The UNSC archer missiles painted a blanket of explosions across its partially visible energy shield. Itself flickering arcs of platinum light across its chitinous hull. It held still under this barrage and the battlecruiser's captain must have though too that it could weather the Soaring Falcon's torpedoes. Knowing that at the rate Asurr's strike group was closing that they would soon pass over of break off, leaving them vulnerable to an avenging strike to his enemies' engines. He would have been correct if among them were not vortex torpedoes.

They were a rare munition amongst all races, though particularly the Eldar who abhorred its existence, likening its use to a war crime under all but the most necessary of circumstances. Asurr would likely have to appear before Captain Faerelon in explanation of his actions after the battle.

In the space upon the battlecruiser's energy shields, three impossibly black orbs appeared roughly a hundred meters across. These anomalies were in fact weaponized warp portals of large scale. To these there was no manner of safeguard or shielding in known reality capable of armoring oneself from their disastrous effect as the Covenant soon discovered. To an outward observer, it would have appeared the ship was literally being eaten by the three all-consuming vortexes. Its shields failed quickly and its engines powered up to carry it away while it still had some power but this was shortly taken away with MAC strikes from the two remaining frigates to its aft section. The warp vortexes made no distinction between the matter and living souls which were delivered into the warp. It was this scale that was the source of the weapon's controversy. Banishing living beings into the warp's hellish reality was a sentence not fit for any creature due to the eternity of torture they would face on the other side. In his travels as a corsair, Asurr had managed to acquire nine of the controversial munitions.

By the time the rifts in reality dissipated, the battlecruiser had less than two-thirds of its original mass with only some of its starboard side remaining.

"Fire aft torpedoes!" Asurr then ordered as his force passed under the vessel. Four hits on the crippled Covenant vessel broke it into half a dozen pieces belching plasma from ruptured plasma conduits like a bleeding animal. It had been done, all of the carriers' escorts had been destroyed.

On the ship-to-ship communications band _Soaring Falcon_ was using in conjunction with the UNSC frigates, Asurr heard a great clamor of cheers from their crews and congratulations to him for their success. This praise warmed the Corsair Prince's mood greatly, bringing back the proud curl of the lip to the corner of his mouth Asurr enjoyed to bear.

"Come my fellow Mariners," He addressed to the frigates. "There is much more glory yet to be claimed and two of the Covenant's ships still blight the sky!"

 **Portside Shipping**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

With a hiss the airlock pressurized to the station's norm and sound returned to the world around the Spartan and three eldar. The pressure doors to the portside shipping bay then parted with a mechanical click followed by an electronic whir. Opposite of them a pair of Marines, a man and a woman crouched behind a combat barrier with a third Marine lying wounded on the floor plating. John's armor detected no life signs.

He and his adopted squad of Guardians moved forward into the bay, spacious enough to stack three Pelican dropships on top of one another and two abreast. That number would have been doubled if the cargo lift had been at their level.

Cautiously they approached the edge.

The swarm of red on the Chief's motion tracker brought this advance to a quick end. "Incoming!" he shouted. "Move right, get cover!" He directed the eldar to a two leveled alcove used to store smaller crates and access Habitat Bravo from the door on the second level.

John heard them before he saw them. The beating hum of wings, each as loud as a Warthog engine-the sound seeming to vibrate his very brain. The telltale chirps of plasma pistols being discharged joined the raucous and John moved to put his body in between the burning blobs and Arrosan who trailed at the rear, a decision that likely saved the eldar's life. Across his visor arcs of golden energy flickered across his vision and his shield meter dropper to two-thirds.

Belbas and Yradavar made it to the alcove, taking cover behind a wide support beam, ready to engage whatever challenge faced them now.

Belbas sounded flabbergasted when he saw what creature was now attacking them. "The Covenant arms giant insects against us?!"

Two more shots splashed against the shields on the Spartan's back but now they were close enough to cover that he turned and brought his rifle up. Filling the air of the cargo bay were over a dozen manically flying insects about the size of a Grunt each. They were flatly cicada shaped with iridescent green shells of chitin and large orange teardrop shaped compound eyes. Among them were a pair of red 'Majors' equipped with light energy shielding and armed with plasma rifles.

"Drones! Use burst fire! Arrosan, get to the second level!" Chief ordered as he laid down a triple-burst from his rifle, only claiming a single kill from the swarm.

Belbas and Yradavar joined, allowing the Chief ascend to the second level where Arrosan had found a long munitions crate to set up behind to which John joined. The four laid down as much fire as they could but the swarm moved with nigh-untraceable randomness while they in turn rained fire of their own. Each of the four had only made four kills upon the swarm of Drones who took no notice, let alone remorse for the loss of their comrades' lives.

Chief's battle rifle ran dry, taking a burst of plasma to the chest from one of the Majors as he reached for a magazine locked magnetically to his side. His shields broke and another burst boiled away at the armor plate over his right pectoral, forcing John to hug the floor until his shields recharged.

Arrosan's reaction was unexpected when he saw this. Believing the human to be wounded, he rose from cover and made wide quick sweeps with his rifle singing a continuous melody of full-auto fire.

"Disgusting insects!" In a few seconds his gun fell silent, depleted of ammunition with three more Drones dead to show for his effort. "Yradavar, Belbas, the Spartan is wounded and I must replace an ammunition core!"

Yradavar replied. "We shall cover for you." And the pair below increased their rate of fire.

"The cargo lift activates!" called Belbas. "Another lance of Covenant rise from the lower level!"

Arrosan saw the Master Chief rise to his knees, his form consumed for two lasting seconds with a golden aura as his shields returned. "Master Chief are you injured?"

"Negative, keep firing!" John pulled himself up, dropping his rifle in favor of an SMG.

Relief finally came when the majority of the Guardian squad lead by a Warlock entered from the alcove on the opposite side of the bay. An arc of lightning was cast into one of the Drone Majors who had yet to take notice of the newcomers. The effect was the same as when a fly comes in contact with a bug-zapper, only with much messier results. The insectoid Covenant exploded from within as its organs were flash-boiled inside of its carapace, causing a rapid expansion that blasted it apart into a rain of sickly green flesh and ichor.

"Use automatic fire!" Yradavar communicated to the rest of his squad, now all upon the second tier platform in a firing formation. With an established crossfire, the Drones were unable to dodge a different kind of swarm, one of monomolecular scything blades, caseless bullets and psychic blasts.

"More targets coming up the elevator!" The Master Chief alerted, the lift's second tier now only a few meters from the top.

"Guardians move into position!" Commanded the Warlock John remembered was called Lenrys. "Iseseith, Mauhyn cast your grenades down upon them!"

Guardians moved down the stairs to create a wider base of fire. John and Arrosan mirrored their position on the opposite side.

With little cover on the openly spaced platform, the Grunts fell quickly while the two Elites fell back behind a pair of large cargo boxes. An eldar plasma grenade blossomed adjacent to one of the metal boxes, knocking the Elite standing behind out of cover. On the floor and its only cover half melted, it did the only thing it could. In a gesture of defiance, it raised its plasma rifle with an accompanying roar. It died before a single bolt of plasma could be fired with Lenrys' ornate spear cast into its chest cavity with remarkable precision. John then observed as the dying Elite fell to its knees, the spear withdrawing of its own volition and flying back to the Warlock's hand.

"Vile witches!" The last Elite, indeed, the last Covenant in the bay cried out. The second eldar grenade landed, and again the Elite was tossed unceremoniously from its cover. When this one rose it faced John and his squad who had been moving to flank it.

A frustrated grown left its mandibles, knowing it had no recourse. It stared at the faceless Spartan and the three eldar Guardians. "Demons and Witches, the lot of you!" It said in its clumsy and warbling voice unused to human speech. It reached for one of the grenades on its belt in a final act of martyrdom. Yradavar and Arrosan made sure it never reached the little blue orb.

Lenrys called to the Guardians. "Arrosan, Belbas, Yradavar. Farseer Dyresh calls for us to board the human frigate docked outside as a precautionary measure if the Covenant breach the atmosphere."

Yradavar spoke next. "What of the bomb? Should that not be our highest priority?"

"I can handle it." John said. The three Guardians turned toward the Spartan that had lead them thus far with remarkable success to show for it. "If those carriers get to Earth, you'll be needed on the ground."

Yradavar and Belbas nodded, almost synchronously and moved to join the rest of their unit but Arrosan lingered. He looked to John's marred chest-plate, the olive paint melted away revealing the titanium beneath, slightly warped but hardly compromised. He produced an eldar grenade from his belt. An ovular shaped ornamental object like a Fabergé egg with eight and four cyan gemstones large and small on its golden-bone colored structure of alien material. Atop it was a ringing two-tier surface with a single rounded crimson gemstone at the very center.

"This haywire grenade emits a pulse that nullifies simple electrical systems. It is thought activated, you must place your thumb on the activation jewel and command with your mind to arm it." Arrosan explained.

John took the grenade offered and placed it on his belt with the remaining frag and Covenant plasma grenade. "Thanks,"

"Good luck Spartan."

 **Covenant 9** **th** **Age of Reclamation**

 **CAS-class Assault Carrier:** _ **Solemn Penance**_

 **Covenant Fleet of Sacred Consecration**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

"The last of our escorts have fallen, holy one. I must urge that we retreat." Shipmaster Rhul Salmutee spoke his concern to his holy leader.

Before him sat a San'Shyuum upon a gravity throne, the High Prophet of Regret. One of the three Covenant Hierarchs who would guide them to the path of the Great Journey. Seated on the hovering throne, Regret was dressed in a lavender robe marked with artistic curves and lines of glistening gold upon the cuffs, sleeves and shoulders, acting to hide his species' frail bodies. Regret was the youngest of the High Prophets but still he had aged to the point where the hunched back comfortably seated the large decoration adorning him. A work of art unto itself, with tall golden wings reaching upward, ever toward ascension promised by Halo's Holy light. A sapphire holographic representation of one of the holy rings stood projected from the Prophet's tall axe-head shaped headdress.

Regret turned his long wormy neck away from the screens of tactical data, fixing his large eyes placed almost at the very outside of his face upon the Sangheili Shipmaster. "My mission here is of the most _supreme_ importance Shipmaster. There can be no delay!"

"With due respect, Holy Prophet we are outnumbered and facing new, dangerous classes of ships armed with weapons comparable to our own. And aboard the orbital weapons we are receiving reports of strangely armored humans calling on witchcraft to repel our boarding teams. There is still time-"

"Blessed Prophet, Shipmaster," Called out the Sangheili at the Communications station. "We are receiving transmission from the enemy battleship!"

 _"To the Covenant commander of what remains of this fleet, know that Humanity no longer stands alone against your genocidal mania. We are the Eldar, hailing from the great craftworld of Ulthwé and know that I, Autarch Faerelon Voidborn, Captain of the Herald of Asuryan, offer you chance to surrender. Will you seek peace or annihilation?"_

"Shipmaster," The High Prophet said in a low tone almost hissing. "Take us through to the planet, full speed. Have the _Day of Jubilation_ cover our descent."

 **Central Elevator 02**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

" _The first carrier completely ignored us sir. Blew through the Malta's debris field and headed straight for Earth!"_ Cortana said over the fleetcom with detectable puzzlement.

 _"Everyone, fire everything you've got at that second goddamn carrier!"_ Harper ordered. _"We'll pop it just like Harvest!"_

To Chief on the elevator, it meant little except knowing he'd be deployed groundside after he took care of the bomb.

"Just so you know, there are quite a few Elites guarding the bomb. You may need to get creative." Cortana spoke again, this time to just the Spartan.

The elevator doors opened to the spacious U-shaped room, its square broken by the large firing chamber for the Super-MAC and its ammunition conveyor system. There was room to duck under the conveyor if John needed to flank around and probably would. On his motion tracker he sighted four blobs of red, though there were probably more. The Spartan moved out silently, hoping that the machinery masked the sound of the elevator arriving. Placed only a few meters away was a large cargo box, similar to the make of the ones up in Portside Shipping. Good for small arms cover, bad for explosives he'd learned. A Grunt laid dead before it with its luminescent cyan blood staining the floor plating. One less at least…

John retrieved the haywire grenade from his belt and put his thumb to the activation jewel.

 _Activate_. He thought, to no apparent effect. He tried it again, speaking the words in his mind louder, if that made any sense. Again nothing _. Initiate countdown_. He tried. _Arm. Detonate._ John was running out of time. _To hell with it._ He decided, and chucked it armed or not across the room at the window.

"Grenade!" Cried out a terrified Grunt.

John moved quickly under the conveyer, moving up under the cover of shadow until he could no longer. Priming the last of his plasma grenades, he emerged from the left side of the conveyor and stuck a braced Elite some eight meters away on the back.

A Grunt laid prone on the floor in front of him. Totally bought by John's grenade ruse, it thought to be clear from the blast by taking shelter on the left side of the firing chamber. All it did was deliver itself closer to the Spartan's rifle. A burst to the head and John ducked back under the conveyor, hoping that they were still in disarray and aiming toward the area he'd just left.

The station quaked again as Cortana fired the Super-MAC. John pivoted on his left shoulder around the corner with his rifle braced and ready. The reticle of his scope immediately found the skull of another Elite Minor, just as he'd hoped aiming in the direction of where the Spartan had been. Nine bullets impacted in what would be called automatic fire by soldiers with a conventional sense of time.

The Elite panic fired, spraying as much plasma as he could at his attacker. A fourth burst caught him in the right corner of the mouth. John couldn't tell if the first or the second bullet was the one to break the shield, only the gruesome display that followed.

To the left, John could see the pointed tip of a Grunt's methane pack peeking out over the firing chamber's tall base. It may have been about to attack but seeing the Elite die such a gory death made it rout. John advanced, exchanging the quarter-full magazine for a fresh one in less than two seconds. The retreating Grunt never made it to the pair of cargo boxes it was clumsily sprinting toward. Outside the walling window, the boxes were set in front of, John saw what must have been the second assault carrier pass by, and taking a significant amount of fire in its aft courtesy of Admiral Harper and Captain Faerelon. To the right, he saw what must have been the bomb. Of a deep purple metal, it was long, rounded and covered in spikes, it looked like some alien fruit, with the exception that it was the size of a Mongoose ATV.

Twin roars of rage filled the air and two Elites emerged from behind the boxes with mandibles spread into a fearsome display of teeth. One was a Major, armed with a needler, the other, a Minor wielding a plasma rifle in each four-fingered hand. The Elites charged with weapons blazing, the Spartan's shields plummeting past half strength while he fell back, firing what he could at the Major. John deeply wished that damn grenade had off when he needed it to.

And so it did.

Sitting right next to the window, the jewels decorating the eldar device flashed cyan blue matched with a high pitched note that cut through the air. Above, the lights flickered for a long second but as for the Elites, their weapons became lifeless and their shields flickered and died shortly after. The Spartan fired, pivoted and fired again on the vulnerable aliens.

Cortana appeared on a holo-tank adjacent to the bomb. "Me. Inside your head. Now!" She commanded.

John put his right hand to the rounded top of the machine, downloading her back on to the crystal data chip lodged in the back of his helmet and then quickly moved to the bomb, putting the same hand to the red flashing holographic interface.

"How much time was left?"

"You don't want to know." Cortana replied.

Commander Keyes's voice came over the COM channel. _"Cairo, this is In Amber Clad. The carrier's shield is down! I'm in position, and ready for immediate assault!"_

" _Negative Commander. Not against a ship that size. Not on your own."_ Was Lord Hood's sensible reply.

A crazy thought then came to John's mind.

 **Power Reception and Distribution**

 **Cairo Orbital Defense Platform**

Lysandur lead his Dire Avengers from the Power Chamber now that only a few Covenant stragglers remained aboard the station. Soon the ground battle would begin and to there they would be called to do Khaine's bloody work. With _In Amber Clad_ already away with the Black Guardians aboard the vessel, the Shrine of the Bright Phoenix would commandeer the use of the Vampire Raider situated in the largest hangar bay just below the MAC gun. One of his disciples, Firlyth had been a pilot in the past, among others, so it should be little trouble to rally with the rest of the Warhost on the ground. Exarch Fuelon of the Shining Spears Shrine of the Starlight Lance was already down there and was a fine warrior. Hopefully his wisdom and that of the Warlocks would be enough to keep cohesion to the impromptu warhost of Guardians and Corsairs.

" _Sir? Permission to leave the station."_ Lysandur heard the Master Chief speak. Perhaps he could board the dropship with them. Lysandur was interested to see how these Spartans differed from their Imperial counterparts in combat.

" _For what purpose Master Chief?"_

The Master Chief's next words gave Lysandur shock and pause. _"To give the Covenant back their bomb."_

Lord Hood took a mere second's pause before he delivered his answer. _"Permission granted."_

Now it was Lysandur's turn to voice his thoughts. "Master Chief, I hope your plan is not what I believe it to be. Await us in the hangar, my Shrine will be there in several minutes."

" _Negative. I'm already en-route and if we wait any longer, that carrier will breach the atmosphere. It has to go now."_ A click signaled that he had closed the channel.

"Mon-keigh fool! Lysandur quietly swore in his helmet. "We must move quickly!" The Exarch ordered to his Shrine. "Triple your pace!"

By the time the Aspect Warriors arrived at the hangar, it was already vented into space, the Spartan and the bomb gone along with all the air in the compartment.

"What action do we take now?" Firlyth questioned.

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

As the Chief drifted toward the Covenant assault carrier he felt a pang of regret for cutting the transmission to Lysandur so abruptly but he simply didn't have the time to ague at that moment. He hoped it wouldn't break the respectful rapport he had developed with Lysandur in the short time he had met the Exarch. The eldar just wasn't familiar with the Spartan measure of acceptable strategy yet.

Ahead the assault carrier fired its plasma projector turret at an eldar dragonship a few kilometers off. The first two beams struck its aft sails and engines, effectively crippling it. Before the final blow could be struck, a Marathon-class Heavy Cruiser moved to intercept, shielding the eldar ship by taking the point-blank shot to its keel amidships. John saw its engines whimper and die as he passed in its wake. The thought of the hundreds of people dying inside it filled him with such a deep desire for retribution, for them, for Reach, for every world they glassed and the billions dead by their hands.

"This is Spartan-One-One-Seven requesting bombing run from any available craft on these coordinates." He transmitted on the FLEETCOM channel.

 _"This is Prince Asurr, of the Soaring Falcon. We shall carve you a path through!"_

A few seconds later, the black and silver eldar cruiser barreled past the carrier, casting a blue-white lance near the rear of the ship like a laser scalpel making an incision. So fast the eldar Prince's ship was that the plasma torpedoes fired in retaliation didn't have a hope in catching him.

Not long after, John drifted into the carrier's cavernous main reactor room. Below he saw a massive gash torn in the carrier's underside from a grazing MAC shot, that would be his exit point. The Spartan put his hand to the holographic panel, giving Cortana access once more.

The bomb reactivated, the Spartan planted his feet upon the anti-matter bomb whilst holding on to one of its alien spikes. With all the cold fury he felt for the Covenant, he again deactivated his armor's safety inhibitors and kicked away with all his might.

 **Eldar Vampire Raider**

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

Lysandur gazed out the cockpit window, standing just behind the seat Firlyth had taken at the controls. Before him he saw the pearly surface of the Covenant assault carrier that was the Master Chief's target.

"I have established contact with _In Amber Clad_ , they have lost his signal as well. He must be inside the ship."

Still paying attention to the controls, Firlyth offered a question. "Exarch, if the human wished to sacrifice himself, should we not allow him to do so?"

Sergeant Major Johnson was the one to reply aboard _In Amber Clad_. _"Ha! The hell do you mean sacrifice? That man is the singular most stubborn son-of-a-bitch in the known universe. If it is true that hell itself called the Master Chief out, then I guarantee you that man will not stop until he beats the Devil's accursed ass to death with his own golden fiddle if he has to."_

" _There he is!"_ Commander Keyes announced. Only to have her relief tarnished as a deathly purple light blossom from the carrier's amidships. The nanolaminate hull immediately disintegrated at the detonation of the anti-matter bomb. A chain reaction ignited throughout the plasma conduits as nearly the entire ship was consumed.

Lysandur saw the Master Chief's signal disappear from the sensor readings again, this time feeling far greater sense of dread. "Firlyth switch to visual scanning, there could be particle interference blocking his signal." The Exarch moved into the navigator's station and accessed the forward visual scanners. It would seem to some, a forlorn hope but perhaps with the fates on their side the two Dire Avengers could do with their eyes what the craft's advanced sensors couldn't.

"By Khaine's fury, I see him! I see the lunatic mon-keigh." Firyth announced with disbelief that could not be concealed as she transmitted the visual-feed across the localized COM channel, including the holographic projector in the troop bay.

Lysandur couldn't help but grow a smile beneath the face under the mask. The image of the Master Chief, a living missile screaming towards the planet below just barely ahead of a cloud of fiery plasma. To the jaded Exarch it was a sight he could not have ever conceived of. It was this promise of events in battle, to witness great moments never to be repeated that stayed his feet upon the Path of the Warrior so many millennia ago.

"Take us to him as fast as possible. As much as my curiosity begs, I do not think we should test the Master Chief's luck any further."

 **Earth Orbit, Sol System**

Such a deep sense of fulfilled vengeance was felt by the Master Chief. In John's mind, the Covenant didn't deserve such a quick death but with no blood physically shed, maybe John had spited Chaos and the entity those daemons called Khorne.

Other problems began to manifest in the Master Chief's mind now that he had accomplished delivering a major blow to the Covenant Fleet. How was he going to survive entering the atmosphere? Even with his energy shields he couldn't bare that kind of heat. Maybe if he was lucky he could catch a bit of debris from the carrier and ride it down but those were so far away behind him. The Chief would be stretching his luck really thin after the stunt he pulled but he could see no other recourse.

 _"Master Chief,"_ John heard Lysandur's voice over the COM. _"Prepare yourself, we are making our approach!"_

 _In what?_ John had time to think before the sleek forward-swept winged eldar craft of ebony and ivory shot past him at high speed. He might not have seen it at all if it had been black as the space around him. Roughly a hundred meters ahead the craft began aligning itself with his flight path, the two sets of six thrusters causing his shields to flicker a little. John rotated his body belly down using the movement techniques taught to him by Chief Petty Officer Mendez back on Reach when John was just a ten-year-old recruit.

 _"Human,"_ spoke a female voice. _"My name is Firlyth, I am the one piloting the Vampire Raider before you. One moment, we are opening the troop bay now."_ She paused and ahead John saw a hexagonal door on the rear of the fuselage part into several pieces. Using his helmet's zoom function, he caught sight of the Dire Avengers within. _"To get you aboard without disintegrating you I must cut the engines, it will be up to you to guide your path from then on, though I will do my best to stay aligned. The other members of my Shrine will be back there to catch you, but know human, injure any of them or my Exarch and you will feel my wrath."_

"Humph, I'd like to see her try." Cortana quipped inside John's helmet.

"Acknowledged." John coolly replied.

" _Breaking in three, two, one!"_

The glowing sky-blue light of the thrusters disappeared and from his perspective, the craft began rapidly falling toward him, even though he knew it was the opposite happening. John spread his arms wide, catching the sides of the door, slowing him just slightly as he then collided with the braced group of Dire Avengers. Nine of them there were to catch the Spartan and still he nearly bowled them all over with his metric ton of weight. Two eldar at the back were knocked down as their entire group was forced back two whole meters.

Lysandur was the first thing John took sight of, the Exarch being one of the two eldar that had taken the brunt of his arrival. _"We have him, close the door!"_ Lysandur commanded to Firlyth.

Sound returned to the bay as it repressurized, revealing the moans and groans of the eldar battered by the Spartan's arrival. John steadied himself and helped the disciple who had also caught him to a nearby seat. "Is anyone injured?"

"Merely dazed." Lysandur answered. "You are much heavier than you look." He said with a light air of humor.

"Not to mention insane." Another Dire Avenger spoke near the back. "Who in their right mind throws themselves out an airlock with a bomb with the intent to destroy a warship?"

"I must agree with my disciple. That was a reckless decision on your part."

John turned to Lysandur. "The carrier made it past the orbital perimeter. If any ships continued to engage, their weapons fire would have put Earth at risk. I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"And what if you missed?" Lysandur questioned.

"I didn't."

A second passed as the Exarch was unable to find a proper rebuke. "You did not."

Firlyth's voice filled the bay but from no discernable source. "Exarch, what are your instructions?"

"Follow the surviving carrier into the atmosphere Firlyth. Khaine calls us to the battle soon to be on the surface. And the Master Chief will be accompanying us."


	5. Chapter 5

Second Chances

Chapter 5

 **Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry to keep you waiting for so long. Guiding Fire got a lot more attention than I expected but I was able to work on this in bits over the past two months in between updates for that. While this isn't all that long compared to the other chapters, it does provide setup for the Battle of New Mombasa. Hope you enjoy.**

 **October 20 2552**

 **UNSC Stalwart-class Light Frigate:** _ **In Amber Clad**_

 **Low Earth Orbit / Sol System**

"Ma'am, I've just received communication from the eldar dropship, they got him." Said the Ensign Banks the Communications Officer.

"Good to hear." A sigh of relief accompanied Miranda's reply. "Get me a line to Lord Hood."

"Yes ma'am." The Ensign engaged the interface on his station, keying in the passcodes for the high-level command encryption. "Commander, you're connected."

The Admiral appeared on the small flat monitor connected to her chair positioned at the center of the small and rather cramped bridge. _"Commander?"_ Came Lord Hood's voice mildly impaired by static caused by In Amber Clad's proximity to the atmosphere.

"Admiral, the Master Chief is secured aboard an eldar dropship and we're pursuing the carrier into the atmosphere, do we have any idea where it's going sir?"

" _East Africa as predicted but no-"_

" _This city here."_ Miranda heard Dyresh interrupt. Lord Hood was drawn away by Farseer Dyresh to the Cairo's tactical display. The figure of the Farseer took the place of Lord Hood in the frame. _"On the eastern coast, the city of New Mombasa. That is where they will be drawn to. Altadoraan, contact the warhost and inform them."_ The Eldar said turning away to his Warlocks upon the balconies before returning to Miranda. _"Commander I advise you take caution in your pursuit. Though the advantage lies with us, I foresaw this battle we are to fight will be a bloody one. A cornered beast is often the most vicious."_

"I'll take that under advisement Farseer and pass that information on to the Marines. _In Amber Clad_ out."

\Pieces on the Table/

Not far from the Farseer, Lord Hood began dictating orders, his mind in a state of well controlled panic. "Lieutenant Everett, give me a status report of the defenses in and around New Mombasa." His deep voice carried well in the massively open room to the broad lines of computer terminals and the men at them.

The tan skinned Lieutenant was quick to answer his commander. "Sir, the 17th Marine Regiment is stationed at the Mombasa Regional Naval Base on the city outskirts and elements of the Eridanus II First Battalion, Seventh Regiment are positioned throughout the city to protect the orbital elevator. I'm reading two sea-bound aircraft carriers just outside the harbor with a full wing of F99s at the ready. The 53rd Aviation Wing stationed at Moi Air Force Base also has their Longswords fully armed and ready to provide mission support, sir."

"I'm giving you full operational authority to activate those units. They'll be under the command of Colonel Krensky of the Seventeenth unless ordered otherwise."

"Yes sir! I'll contact the Colonel immediately."

The unease brought by the coming battle weighed heavy on Hood's mind. If it were Ulthwé, Dyresh would feel much the same. The old Admiral looked passingly at the Warlocks on the balconies as he paced back to the tactical screen. "Farseer what can you tell me of your forces on the ground?"

Dyresh ignored the Admiral's unintended rudeness. He stepped forward and waved his hand to the screen, using the interfacing wraithbone devices to manipulate what was shown. Swept away was the gridded bare topographical map, replaced by a satellite image of the coastal region. From the northern inlands, several formations of eldar runes advanced across the savannah and farmlands to the distant brick and stone buildings of the Old Mombasa District some sixty kilometers away to the southwest. Nearest to the city there was a curving thin wedge of icons moving at great speed, the vanguard for the main attack force that made the slower second wedge.

"The majority of the troops belong to my son's corsair band. They favor raiding attacks with lightly armed fast-attack anti-gravity skimmers such as the Jetbike, Vyper and Hornet." The blue icons on the forward wedge flashed a whiter hue several times. "These craft will sweep through the city streets to soften what defenses the enemy have time to erect and delay their strategic maneuvers. Exarch Fuelon of the Starlight Lance Aspect Shrine of the Shining Spears leads this charge."

Again Hood looked to the balconies, this time the left side where the Warlocks had been tasked with the melding of eldar forces into the UNSC's Battle Network. "Warlocks what's the status of the battlenet integration? Marine forces groundside will need to be able to make support requests to those attack craft."

Corthaidel, the Warlock leading the group left the holographic interface of a node without a word and approached the balcony's glass railing. "Functional but woefully inadequate. The system you humans use is unbelievably archaic and will prove problematic to our forces on the ground." His shoulders then squared slightly and Corthraidel took a short breath that rounded his chest in a manner of confidence. "Farseer, I must state my objection. Adapting the sophisticated and nuanced methodology a Warhost employs simply to comfort the wartime habits of these humans will severely hamper its capability."

"Out of the question." Dyresh immediately replied with a tone of finality. Beside him, Lord Hood was ready to offer his biting retort.

Hood was hardly the face of fiery wrath as Imperial commanders were known to be with bared teeth and raised voice when addressing their subordinates. He was in fact very calm with only a slight frown and pinched brow betraying any kind of negative emotion. "Son, I _apologize_ for our species' lack of sophistication but this is where we stand right now and we do not have the time to perfect every nuanced detail. For the past twenty-seven years we've had to make do. And unless you have some kind of super-weapon in one of your pockets, that's exactly what we'll have to do. Work what you can to tighten up the integration, just make sure our forces on the ground don't end up shooting at each other." Looking away to Dyresh, Hood appeared to be finished.

"Dyresh, what about your main force? What can you tell me about them?"

The Ulthwé Farseer waved his hand to the screen again. The runes of the second wedge changed from bare black to a spectrum of different colors, each marking what appeared to be formations within the wedge. "The bulk of the warhost lies in the core." Dyresh said, placing Hood's attention to the silver icons. "Wave Serpents carry the majority of the corsair foot soldiers, the craft are fast and equipped to counter infantry formations and light vehicles. The paired cyan and yellow icons at the lead are our Vampire Raider dropships bearing a Wasp Assault Walker in their gravitic hooks. It is an agile and well-armed weapon platform equipped with jump jets that will make them well suited to navigate the architecture of the city's historic district. After they are released, I foresee the Raiders will fly on to deliver the Black Guardians they carry in their troop bays to reinforce isolated groups of Marines and others in need."

Hood nodded, his tensions slightly abating. "What about anti-armor? The Covenant have heavily armored gun carriages armed with plasma mortars. I don't need to be psychic to know that assault carrier will have hundreds at its disposal."

Red runes ahead of the silver marked Wave Serpents but behind the paired Wasps/Raiders flashed momentarily. "Ulthwé Falcons should be able to combat the threat posed by them and if not, the _Herald of Asuryan_ has brought down its Scorpions," Dyresh paused to find the right words. "I believe you would call them 'super-heavy' tanks."

"The UNSC fields a tank under the same name." Hood's tone was low as he mentioned the fact, contemplating a method to avoid the inevitable confusion having two separate classes of vehicles under the same name.

"These are no mere tanks Admiral, they are one of the great Engines of Vaul, our God of the Forge, mightier than any other craft that treads the ground. There are few threats that the Scorpion cannot rise to the challenge and face. And for such opponents…" To the rear of the wedge two large blue runes bearing the same symbol highlighted themselves. "The _Herald of Asuryan_ has had the honor of transporting the twin Titans: Serpents Striking from Shadow."

Standing stock-still with hands clasped behind his back, Hood called out his order clearly. "Lieutenant Jones, make sure this information is distributed to all commanders in the field."

"Sir!" The red haired officer replied whilst continuing his work without delay.

Ahead, the Fleet Admiral continued to take in the information on the eldar ground units as the computers, or more accurately the eldar technology interfaced with them, translated the data. He then let out a cleaning breath. "Thank you again Dyresh. If it weren't for the Herald and your son's fleet, the Covenant would have caught us completely by surprise. I don't want to think about what kind of casualties we would have had if that were the case."

"This battle is far from over Admiral, indeed I fear this is only the opening act."

 **Eldar Vampire Raider**

 **Southeast Africa / en-route to New Mombasa**

 **Earth, Sol System**

 **0721 Hours / Local Time**

Back in the troop bay of the Dire Avengers' appropriated Vampire Raider, the eldar Aspect Warriors prepared themselves for the battle soon to come. Renewing their supplies of ammunition cores and bejeweled cerulean grenades. Having shed his own weapons prior to his return of the Covenant antimatter bomb, Lysandur had elected to gift John one of their spare weapons. The Spartan took hold of the eldar rifle the Exarch offered to him.

"Its proper name is _tuelean_ , which in your language translates… _adequately_ as the storm of blades, but is also commonly referred to as a shuriken catapult."

John ignored the odd moniker as he maneuvered with it in his hands, sighting it and moving it into a number of firing positions. It was extremely light, bearing no greater weight than an M7 in the face of being nearly twice the size. The grips were very comfortable even for someone of his size but the lack of a buttstock to steady his aim nearly ruined it all. "How does it operate?"

"The weapon is crafted from hand by our bonesingers. Every part is made of a substance we call wraithbone, a psychic material crafted directly from the energies of the warp into physical form which the bonesingers manipulate into the form and function of their choosing. We eldar need only to command our weapons with our minds to fire or give our vehicles direction."

"Fascinating…" Noted Cortana, over the helmet's speakers who had at this point had yet to announce her presence with the Spartan, brining considerable attention once again to the Master Chief by the Dire Avengers who had previously thought him to be male. John ended the inquiries before they could begin by removing the data chip slotted into the back of his helmet and held it out for Cortana to manifest.

"Sorry," The small blue holographic woman excused. "I've been a bit too busy cracking the Covenant's transmission codes to say hello. But now that I'm out, Chief would you mind letting me have the chance to give that thing a once-over?"

"I doubt you will be successful," Lysandur spoke. "Eldar technology is a far cry from your own in its complexity and psychic nature."

"Ha!" Cortana challenged in return. "I'll have you know piloting starships and infiltrating alien computer systems are nothing more than a pleasant afternoon for me. Chief?"

John held the rifle close for his companion, its gems glistening under the light producing stones decorating the ceiling. Cortana touched her semitransparent hand to the jewel just forward of the trigger bringing it to light up like a signal flare. For several seconds Cortana stood in the Spartan's hand with her face nearly blank as she analyzed the eldar technology. He knew a for an AI like Cortana, a second was a very large amount of time, equivalent to several hours or half a day depending if the processing load was heavy.

"Cortana?" John asked with slight concern. He knew she was a highly capable AI capable of dismantling alien networks like a house of cards, hell she had been inside the computer of the Halo's control room, but still…

"One moment," Cortana said absently, still engrossed in whatever she was doing. Then she pulled her hand back without any notification. "That was…" She searched for the words. "Unusual. Your systems are unlike anything I've ever interfaced with. It's so…disjointed, constantly the data, no thoughts are flowing from one of those control crystals to the others." Cortana then let out an artificial sigh of exhaustion which most of the eldar thought as strange as this artificial intelligence's bold personality. "Took me forever to create a viable link between it and your armor's system Chief."

"What?" Spoke a male Dire Avenger with muted shock matched by the awe induced stillness of his fellow warriors.

Lysandur looked down to Cortana. "Do you mean to say you not only managed to interface with wraithbone but connect it with your own technology?"

"Maybe next time you won't underestimate either of us." Cortana said with a very unsubtly smug expression. "Not to say you should sell yourselves short, this is easily the _second_ most advanced piece of alien hardware I've ever gotten my hands on."

"My expectations of your kind have been again inaccurate. It seems past experiences with your kin from the reality we call home has nested a bias that lingers still in my mind."

With the topic pushed forward, Cortana decided to pursue. "Out of curiosity…" she began in a morbidly inquisitive tone of voice. "What _is_ humanity like where you come from?"

The Dire Avengers around looked to one another in seeking consensus in one another using nuanced gestures that spoke silent sentences from one to another, pertaining to how honest they should be with their curiously newfound allies pertaining to the nature of the UNSC's zealous darker cousins. The Master Chief could detect the hesitation, perhaps sourced from some long lingering bad blood between the Eldar and this other Humanity, whoever they were.

"Suffice it to say," Lysandur with a cautious, self-censoring manner. "You would not find their company favorable, your counterparts from our realm bear greater resemblance to the Covenant than you yourselves and let us hope we never have the misfortune of dealing with their ilk any time soon. I find that your people are of much more pleasant company than any of those blind zealots and that is all that should be said on the matter."

John accepted his logic, for now it was a pointless topic when they needed to focus on the fight ahead. So needed was a mind uncluttered by topics that would only give the enemy the advantage in a fight. "What does this rifle fire?"

"Crystalline monomolecular shuriken, each disc is shorn off from the ammunition core stored within this container here." Lysandur said with his finger pointed a few inches away from the curved artistic cylinder forward of the trigger. "The gravitic accelerators within the barrel then propel them to a speed approaching super-sonic velocity."

" _Exarch."_ Communicated Caeraban who had taken up position as copilot to Firlyth. _"The Covenant vessel has taken position up the coast over a port city called New Mombasa. Ranger scouts report that it now looms over a large park that lies on the shore of the main island and is extending a beam of light to the ground."_

"It's the carrier's gravity lift, the Covenant are beginning their ground assault." The Master Chief spoke to state the obvious.

"They are fools." scoffed the same Aspect Warrior who had been dumbfounded by Cortana's demonstration of her capabilities. "Do they not realize they are outnumbered and have done nothing but trap themselves?"

"The madness of zealots knows no limit to foolishness, my disciple." Lysandur lessoned. "Nor mercy."

 **Southeast Africa / New Mombasa**

 **Earth, Sol System**

 **0803 Hours / Local Time**

"The message just repeats: Regret. Regret. Regret." Cortana stated of her infiltration of the Covenant's communications as the Vampire Raider of the Dire Avengers holding herself and the Master Chief aboard was closing in from the northern coastal line in view of New Mombasa and the ominous Covenant assault carrier occupying its once beautiful African skyline. East, out to sea hovered the fittingly stalwart looking _In Amber Clad_ , which had taken up a forward position near the city to act as Command and Control on behalf of Admiral Hood. From her she had launched three Pelicans carrying an expeditionary strike force to secure a landing zone inside enemy lines in the Old Mombasa District to act as a beachhead for incoming Marine reinforcements to then pincer Covenant ground forces between themselves and the eldar warhost oncoming from the northwest like a great gale.

" _Catchy. Any idea what it means?"_ Commander Keyes quipped but before the AI could respond, it seemed Sergeant Major Johnson had another theory.

" _Dear humanity,"_ he began with a voice filled with an odd delightful aggressiveness. _"We regret being murderous bastards, we regret coming to Earth and we most definitely regret that the Corps and their new friends just blew up our raggedy-ass fleet!"_

Johnson always had a particular knack for bravado and it was the motivating boost everyone needed in this dire hour with the Covenant now upon humanity's cradle. Even the eldar took delight in his words, though did not do much to outwardly show it beneath their stern masks for fear of seeming unsophisticated to their peers, save for the Exarch.

"Indeed." He spoke in solidarity to the veteran Sergeant as he stood across from the Master Chief in the Raider's flight cabin behind the two piloting Dire Avengers.

"Regret is a name, Sergeant." Cortana spoke up, disrupting the jovial mood. "The name of one of the Covenant's religious leaders - a Prophet. He's on that carrier and he's calling for help." She said with great emphasis and without delay all grew quiet as the weight of that statement had sunk in. One of the Covenant's highest officials here and now trapped behind their lines. It was not lost on anyone that to capture such an individual may very well lead to the end of the war or at the very least, a truce.

A slight movement of the Master Chief's head caught Lysandur's attention. It was slight, he doubted a normal human would have noticed it when Cortana spoke of the Prophet causing some manner of reaction in the Spartan's mind.

"What troubles you?" came the Exarch's question.

The Master Chief turned to Lysandur, slightly surprised that the Eldar had caught the subtle expression that normally only other Spartans could catch. "Three months ago, Operation: RED FLAG was planned to end the war. Every active Spartan would be utilized to capture a Covenant Capitol Ship and use its navigational data to locate the Covenant capital and then infiltrate to capture one of their High Prophets to force a truce." The Master Chief explained, as stoical as the helmet he wore.

"Why was it not carried out?" Caeraban inquired, him like Lysandur sensing the Master Chief's discomfort that betrayed his normally stoic nature.

His AI companion was the one to reply in his stead, she too aware of the emotions the Spartan was keeping in reserve. "Reach was our last heavily defended planetary stronghold. The Covenant glassed it two months ago, and by the time the battle was over, there weren't enough Spartans left to launch the mission. Never thought we would actually get another chance at it."

"Then it seems luck favors you yet again." The Exarch offered in encouragement.

" _Immediate: grid kilo-two-three is hot. Recommend mission abort."_ The Marine Force Recon team reported from their forward observation point. Just a step below ODSTs themselves, for one to sound so nervous and offer such a negative assessment spoke to how quickly the assault carrier must have deployed its contingent of ground troops. The UNSC and Eldar may very well be facing an entire legion of Covenant soldiers.

" _Roger recon."_ The pilot of the lead Pelican confirmed. _"It's your call Sarge."_

" _We're going in."_ Johnson responded with an unfaltering determination. _"Let's get tactical people!"_ He called out to both human and eldar taking part in the sector of their operation.

With the greenlight given on their mission, Lord Hood joined the conversation. _"Master Chief, Exarch Lysandur? I need you to get aboard that carrier, secure the Prophet of Regret. This is the only place on Earth the Covenant decided to land, that Prophet is going to tell us why."_

" _Thirty seconds out…"_ the lead pilot noted, nearing the landing zone. "Standby to-whoa…" he said ominously.

"What is it?" John asked to Cortana with concern as the COM then went crazy.

"Scarab!"

 **Author's Note: Sorry if this is a bit short but I wanted to get something out for Second Chances before March to show it wasn't dead. Right now, I have one more chapter to do for Guiding Fire before I put that on break while I give this my undivided attention. But keep in mind I am writing this while attending college so life can and will interfere with the pace of updating. But I absolutely will not abandon this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

Second Chances

Chapter 6

 **Author's Note: Thought about waiting and doing a mega-post that was 20,000+ words, but I'm not really a fan of those and I'd rather keep updates semi-regular instead of going for 3-4 months without word on the story's progress, so here you go.**

 **October 20 2552**

 **Eldar Vampire Raider**

 **East Africa / New Mombasa Outskirts**

 **Earth / Sol System**

 **0730 Hours / Local Time**

"What has happened?" Lysandur questioned Caeraban as he looked over his disciple's left shoulder in attempt to see the goings on for himself.

"It is an enemy titan! It was hiding in the smoke amongst the burning structures!" Caeraban said aghast.

The Master Chief joined Lysandur behind Caeraban's seat. "Get me a visual." The Spartan requested, an urgency filling his words. Upon the holographic projector above the Vampire Raider's control panel a four-legged platinum behemoth appeared, fifty meters tall with a head that was shaped like the bulb of a sad metal tulip and the machine's back constructed like a deck of an old maritime ship, a most odd feature.

"It's a V1 Type." Cortana answered with all seriousness now that they were faced with a threat. "That's not good, I'll have to inform the Commander and Lord Hood on the situation." The AI then went silent as she set herself to notify the higher-ranking officers of this unfortunate development.

"Exarch, how wide a birth should we give that beast?" Firlith asked of her leader from the forward portion of the cabin, but it was the Master Chief who answered.

"Minimum safe distance is four kilometers. Any closer and you'll trigger the anti-air defenses."

"Raise the holo-field and keep to those instructions, we cannot risk being shot down ourselves." Lysandur turned from the cabin's rear half and commanded before placing back, facing the Spartan. "How can it be destroyed?"

"V-One's have starship-grade armor, and I don't know how effective the guns on this would be against it. Standard UNSC procedure is to take it out with air-support or an orbital strike but they won't take that chance as long as the Scarab is in the city. It can be boarded but that's not easy, especially that type."

Lysandur offered a thoughtful hum. "We shall avoid the Covenant Titan unless commanded otherwise. Caeraban, hail the crews of the crashed human transports, we must know their condition and if they require assistance. If we move quickly we can still achieve the first task of our mission."

"The Black Guardian Squad survives, few are injured and not severely. One of the human pilots perished in the crash." Caeraban mentioned almost as an afterthought as he seemed to remember the one human aboard looming over his shoulder directly behind the his seat. "Their craft crashed through the highway and though they are under attack, the force set against them is not of great threat. The Guardian's Warlock states that he does not require any form of rescue. As for the others, I cannot raise Galathriel of Lord Ythanyll's retinue. Her transport crashed upon the shoreline not far from the third crash site where a great number of Covenant lances are driving toward with great haste."

"More bad news," Cortana's voice returned. "We have reports of two, possibly three more Scarabs sighted across the city. The eldar main assault force is breaking off its titan and heavy armor elements to deal with them but as for the one near us, looks like we're on our own."

"That is disconcerting," Caeraban commented with unease as it seemed the duty of eliminating the Scarab would indeed fall upon them.

"Pilot, can you take me to Johnson's position?" Came the Master Chief's request which came as moderate surprise to Lysandur.

"The courtyard at the third crash site is too small for our craft, we would risk drawing that titan's attention if we linger."

"Just fly low over the position, I'll jump out." The Spartan stated plainly without a hint of fear staining his inflection.

"And what of the carrier Exarch?" Firlith inquired. "Should not our focus be on the capture of the alien Prophet so that we may put an end to this war before too many of our people's lives are shed in expense of these humans?"

"No, he is correct Firlith. As long as those titans stand, our path to the carrier shall remain impassable. The Master Chief shall reorganize our ground forces to push forward while our mission will be to end that titan's threat. Once both tasks are accomplished we together shall make for the Prophet's ship. However, when that time comes, we will be in need of a way to disable it. Cortana?" The Exarch lead, hoping the boastful AI, perhaps rightfully so, would possess the capability they needed to ultimately win the day.

"Just get me in that carrier's systems and I can drop it in the ocean like the whale it is." She answered immediately.

"Firlith, make for the crash site." Lysandur ordered.

"As you wish, Lysandur." The eldar woman answered, both the Exarch and the Master Chief already departing down the stairway set between the cabin's forward and rear stations and into the troop compartment. The Dire Avengers took notice of his and Lysandur's return, all well aware of the goings on and how drastically the battleplan had changed. Wordlessly, the strange human whom their Exarch seemed to have developed an unusual rapport with moved toward the rear of the craft, a few of them, rising themselves to join the duo. Lysandur opened the hatch for the Master Chief, bringing into view the stone and plaster buildings of Old Mombasa, shaded a dirty shade of orange by the ever-growing mass of smoke that loomed in foreboding not far above the leviathan-esque Covenant vessel.

" _We are nearing the position!"_ Firlith communicated as John checked the secureness of the silken strap of material holding the eldar shuriken weapon against his back.

John found himself impressed by the little amount of turbulence or g-forces he had felt throughout his time aboard the eldar dropship, even now as Firlith flew just meters above the rooftops and nimbly steered the dropship around buildings otherwise too tall to crest over, he felt none of it in thanks to the craft's impressive ability to control the gravity within itself. The eldar did indeed have impressive technology and as long as they and the UNSC could work together, maybe there was a shot of finally ending this war.

The Spartan turned himself around, facing the azure-clad Dire Avengers and the ornately decorated Lysandur as they watched the human lean himself out the back fearlessly.

"Good luck." He offered with a nod of his helmet.

"To you as well. Until me meet again."

" _We will pass over the location in…three…two…one!"_

The Bright Phoenix watched the Master Chief allow himself to fall from the craft, his arms crossed over his chest and legs together as a spear point as he fell upon the imperiled position of Sergeant Johnson, his Marines and the few Black Guardians who stood with them.

 **\They'll Regret That Too /**

Below, a minute prior, Arrosan leaned over the low concrete railing of the structure that he, Belbas, Yradavar and the human Marines they had been assigned to, had chosen as their defensive position against the oncoming tide of Covenant foot soldiers. The three Guardians and Marines had good positions atop the second-floor balcony of this structure of what Arrosan assumed to be some kind of ugly, primitive community building, a likely place where small bazaars would be held amongst other things. It was a far cry from the markets of his home of Ulthwé that with melancholy, he was reminded he would never see once more.

Regardless of the past, today this place would be their last bastion of defense against the onslaught of beastly crusaders aiming to claim their heads.

Arrosan fired his shuriken catapult at one of the Covenant species the humans called Jackals, though to him the avian creature looked more akin to some gaunt and miserable tzeentchian creation as it cravenly hid behind its neon-orange energy shield it bore upon its left arm. The shuriken deflected off the shield, weathering them no worse than if they were raindrops.

"Aim for their ugly little feet or the notches in their shields!" the Marine Sergeant Major shouted out from his position atop the roof where his long rifle made its cacophonous barks in anger against the Covenant pouring into the courtyard from where their Pelican had met the end of its journey with a violent halt.

Arrosan accepted the Sergeant's advice, taking aim at the notch where the creature held its plasma pistol in a semi-exposed position and released a burst of razor-edged shuriken. The scaly, vulture-faced creature lost all martial sense along with its hand as it stared in horror at the bloody purple stump of its wrist with its pale glassy eyes. It was an agony it did not have to live long with thereafter upon Arrosan's following shot that then perforated the Jackal's chest in a gushing spray of royal purple blood.

The satisfaction he felt in his little victory was equally short-lived as a bestial roar made effort to drown out all other noise of the battle. Its source, a red-armored Major who emerged from cover with twin plasma rifles already singing their deadly song. With one the Elite suppressed the three Guardians and the other casting its blobs of plasma up toward the Sergeant Major's position. It babbled out in its harsh throaty tongue, no doubt ordering those under its command to push forward.

The ethereal wail of a Vampire Raider's engines then drew the attention of the Guardians skyward. In an instant the pitch came and went seemingly quicker than the craft was visible above them, the one thing that lingered was a sight the three would not soon forget. From the dropship plummeted an object at such a speed even the eldar were not able to clearly see what it was, only the impact it left upon the Elite that until a moment ago had been baring a visage of righteous fury upon them. It was with an instant and violent force that the saurian alien was destroyed, reduced to a bloody purple streak upon the courtyard with a mangled humanoid form beneath the object that now revealed itself to be a figure the three Guardians were most familiar with.

"Impossible!" Arrosan outright denied seeing what he believed to be in violation of the laws of physics as the Spartan had jumped from a moving aircraft with no means of slowing his descent, and not only landing upon the only creature capable of absorbing his weight but also the very enemy that was of greatest threat to the defending force.

"Well, that is something one doesn't see every day." Spoke a seemingly unfazed Yradavar.

The Master Chief's entrance did not go unnoticed by the Covenant either. "The Demon is here! RUN!" cried out one terrified Grunt, causing the whole group to panic. Over half a dozen Grunts, including three Jackals fell into route brought on by the Spartan's arrival, the former slinging an Avenger pattern shuriken catapult up into firing position. The Jackals ran with their shields raised over their heads, exposing the full lengths of their legs to the awaiting barrels of the Guardians' own _tuelean_. The avians appeared to trip before it was apparent their lower halves fell to pieces and the remainder of them ceasing to live shortly thereafter. The fleeing Grunts fell into view of the three Marines covering the left flank along the street whom with the Spartan, made short work of them. With their diminutive legs and gas tank burdened backs, they were easy targets for the humans. The eldar were lucky they wore full helmets as it was well known among the UNSC ranks that the luminous indigo blood of the Grunts' held a foul stench similar to that of rotting fruit. It did not help that the little arthropods bled like hemophiliacs, or that a one of the grunt's methane tanks was struck by the Marines' armor-piercing bullets, causing the creature to rocket ten meters in the air before violently exploding in a disgusting shower of entrails.

The threat momentarily dissipated, the Master Chief leapt upon an overturned delivery truck and then up to the balcony. Upon sighting the three Guardians, he gave them a respectful nod of his helmet before motion atop the building drew the Spartan's attention to Sergeant Major Johnson.

"You know for a brick, you flew pretty good!" the veteran Marine greeted his comrade, unfortunately for them, this revelry did not last for long.

"Coming in over the rooftops! And the street!" hollered a Hispanic accented Marine further down the balcony.

"Arrosan hold here," The Master Chief directed. "You two with me!"

Yradavar was first to set off with the Master Chief and Belbas not far behind. Upon the rooftops of the buildings adjacent to their position appeared a trio Elites and several Jackals equipped with deep purple particle beam rifles of the blade-shaped type-50 pattern.

"Arrosan, take cover from those Jackals, everyone else focus fire on them." The Spartan ordered as he opened up with his gifted shuriken catapult in short taps of the trigger, quickly slaying one of the goggled aliens.

"Why?" Belbas inquired, presuming the Elites to be the more dangerous as they had been during the skirmishes on the orbital station. To answer the eldar's question, a purple beam of light lanced through the throat of a Marine as he emerged from out behind the refuge of one of the Covenant's spiked supply cases, his death instantaneous. Justification for the Spartan's words demonstrated, Belbas immediately followed the lingering trail of light back to its source and engaged the attacker.

With the defender's fire drawn upon the Jackals, the Elites took advantage of this distraction, charging forward with twin-pronged energy swords alight and leaping off the rooves to engage the humans and their eldar allies in glorious hand-to hand combat. Johnson's rifle made its presence known once more as he impressively put one of the saboted anti-materiel arrows through the head of a Minor whilst the thing was midflight. The body of the decapitated Sangheili landed in a clumsy clatter of its slackened limbs while its comrades pressed on.

The Major leading the assaulting wave attempted to engage Yradavar, using his inertia and superior strength to cleave the blade forward in a strike meant to bisect the Guardian but had made the fatal mistake of thinking the eldar no better than any normal human. Yradavar had seen him coming and stepped aside of the strike. More so, he was able to take hold of the Elite's sword-arm and using the crusader's own momentum against it, flipping the Elite on his back in a stunned and humiliating posture where it died to Yradavar's drawn dagger as the Black Guardian pierced it through the creature's weaker shields over its exposed eye socket and into its brain. By the time he stood himself to reengage the last Elite, it already lie slain at the feet of the Master Chief.

"Engage the contacts on the street!" The Spartan commanded to the Marines.

"More of the snipers!" Arrosan called out in enough time for the Master Chief to miraculously dodge a shot meant to claim his head with a burst of speed that seemed unearthly for a human to boast. However, before the Spartan could reach out with his eldar weapon to retaliate, the Jackal suffered the same fate it meant for the human as a hole was burned through its own head by the sharp crimson beam of a laser.

"A Ranger!" Belbas announced with celebratory glee while in short sequence, the other avian marksmen fell to the cameleoline-cloaked eldar from the pirate prince's corsair band, giving the defenders the opportunity they needed to keep the lance on the street from outflanking them. A laser-lobotomized Jackal tumbled from the rooftops and onto the unexpecting Elite Minor leading the dwindling lance, breaking his shields in time for a storm of shuriken from Belbas and the Master Chief to cut him down.

"Drones!" Arrosan called out, still at his position overlooking the courtyard. "Swarming over the buildings to our right! And-" he paused, spotting something else he was not quite sure of. It appeared the massive insects were in pursuit of something, that something taking the shape of an odd ripple in the air that he then realized was cloaked Ranger fleeing from the hive minded swarm the Covenant had seemingly used to flush the marksman out.

The Ranger leapt from the three-story block of a building to one of the tall palm trees in the courtyard, almost sliding all the way down before plasma fire from the drones caught the Ranger in the back and he fell to the ground from two meters above the base of the blocky planter from which the tree grew.

Before he even spoke, the Master Chief threw himself off the balcony into the courtyard below. "Cover me!" he commanded, while he himself opened up on the Drones with an automatic spray of his eldar weapon. Together, the combined fire of the three Black Guardians cut apart enough of the insects that they were forced to abandon their target for the Guardians attacking them. The Master Chief swooped in, grabbing the uncloaked and wounded Ranger around his torso and hauled him back at a full sprint like the eldar was no more than a sack of flour.

"More buggers headin' in over the rooftops!" he heard Johnson snout. "Private Dubbo, man that MG!"

"On it sir!"

Now within the relative safety of the building, John switched his hold on the eldar Ranger to better accommodate his injuries and helped him up the stairs where the Spartan set him down. "Stay here, we'll get you out of here as soon as we can." He assured the injured man, an act he had performed countless times with both success and failure to show for his efforts.

With the cameleoline hood drawn down, the Ranger's face was revealed, his cheekbones were high, giving him a gaunt appearance that was not improved by the pain induced grimace. His hair was a pale silver, drawn up into a knot with a long tail that stretched to the base of his neck.

"Crap! More Snipers!" the same Hispanic Marine from before called out, gaining the Master Chief's attention.

"I need your rifle," he said, addressing the eldar Ranger. "If those snipers pin us down, their infantry will overrun our position."

"You're the one, aren't you?" the Ranger said, eyeing the shuriken catapult of a Dire Avenger in the Spartan's hand. "The mon-keigh who slays daemons with their own hellblades and the enemy's ships with their own bombs. And apparently befriends Exarchs." He spoke through the pain with an air of humor. "Fine, I will humor your request, I will not be in need of it here." Placing the rifle across his lap, the Ranger touched one of the dark green gemstones on its main body. With whatever action he had performed completed, he weakly slid the long rifle to the Spartan, drawing his a pistol sized version of the eldar shuriken catapult shortly thereafter in show that he was not content yet to die on this day. "And you _will_ return it." John offered him a silent nod in thanks.

The Spartan slung his stockless weapon and took up the eldar energy rifle appreciatively before he returned to the fight, exiting the doorway on the balcony's street-side. He found the organically styled rifle extremely comfortable when compared to the catapult as he brought the weapon to bear against a Jackal peeking over the peak of a building, the crimson lance of the rifle melting through the Jackal's eyepiece while making no greater noise than a sharp note on the air.

The Master Chief went about this task, dealing death with what was easily the best rifle he had ever used, not even a fully shielded Elite could withstand a shot from the eldar long rifle.

A sharp warbling sound sang out as a Covenant Phantom flew overhead, likely to observe the defenses before circling back around. A moment later, the Chief's assumption was proved correct. "Eyes up! Phantom's back!" Johnson warned from his overlooking position just as the number of attackers was beginning to dwindle.

"Fall back." The Chief ordered to the Guardians as he began to step back toward the doorway into the building's interior. The Covenant dropship settled over the courtyard, looming like a Portuguese Man o' War with its three heavy plasma cannons dangling from its fuselage. Immediately these began laying down a continuous stream of hot pink blobs of plasma the size of medicine balls upon the structure.

Inside the small atrium, the gathered defenders tried to weather the assault but as the walls and ceiling began to melt from the sustained bombardment, it looked doubtful their position would be viable for much longer. That was until relief came on the wings of a Pelican, hearing the monotone howls of its thrusters overtake the noise of the alien antigravity repulsors. The Master Chief recognized the sharp cracks of ANVIL-II missiles impacting the Phantom's body much to his satisfaction. The Phantom's engines drastically changed in tone from a high to low pitch before cutting off completely with a final earthshaking crash a moment later.

"Johnson, hold here, we'll check it out." John spoke up.

"Go on, we'll greet any party crashers." Johnson answered as he and the two remaining Marines knelt before the ledge overlooking the ground floor and the wide opening to the courtyard presented to them.

The Master Chief was first to lead out of the street-side doorway with rifle ready and the Guardians formed up behind him similarly ready. The building had taken a true beating at the hands of the Covenant dropship. The overhang was either completely melted away in areas or partially so with wide holes almost big enough for a man to slip through. The remnants of this upon the balcony floor in mounds of semi-molten material along with the thick drippings that came off the walls themselves from the plasma bombardment. It was a miracle the Pelican had come along when it had. The result of its handiwork lay belly-up in the rear of the courtyard against the tall dilapidated apartment building, the Phantom bleeding acrid smoke from large rends on the damaged nose and impulse drive cowlings as it lay upon two of the palm trees it had crushed in the crash.

To John's right, he heard the childish chatter of Grunts and the deep-throated reply of an Elite, heard as well by the eldar.

The rattle of a Marine's battle rifle reported from the atrium, heard by the Elite who barked an order at the Grunts under his command. The Spartan and Black Guardians took full advantage of this distraction offered and advanced to the balcony's edge. The Elite Major standing adjacent to the overturned truck died the instant John sighted it, inciting panic in the Grunts the Guardians made quick work of with short bursts of shuriken.

Noticing three more blobs of red to the right on his motion tracker, John shifted his attention appropriately as did Belbas who moved quickly to open fire on the two remaining Grunts holding just outside the firing lines of the Marines inside the building but not a third as John had seen on the tracker a moment ago.

It only took him a second to approximate the distance relative from where the red dot on the tracker had been to the area around.

 _The large supply crate, probable Elite, use explosives._ Was what ran through the Spartan's mind so fast it was almost an instinctual reaction.

"Arrosan, one o'clock, get ready." He stated, taking a plasma grenade from his belt and lobbing it right to the rear of the green metal crate. The Elite John had correctly determined was there dove out of cover a second too late as the grenade detonated, flaring the alien's shields to the point where the eldar had little problem dispatching him.

"More Jackals, by the ship!" Belbas alerted but it mattered little as their savior Pelican returned, unleashing the fury of its chin-mounted autocannon upon the defenseless Jackals and single Elite that had come around the crashed Phantom into the kill-zone.

" _My girl's a little big for that courtyard, Sergeant."_ The Marine pilot reported from overhead. _"I see a good LZ on the other side of these buildings, meet you there, over."_

" _Copy."_ John heard Johnson say over the radio. _"Someone get a satchel on the gate!"_

A moment later, a rattling of metal banged against the doors of a loading dock, followed by another as the metal began to bow outward.

"Get ready." John ordered as he took a knee and sighted the eldar rifle once more. Then in one quick instant, the metal doors were flung away and from the dark interior emerged twin hulking figures the size of a Space Marine Terminator. Armored in iridescent cobalt, it bore six lengthy and deadly looking spines from the back of its broad shoulders. The helmeted head atop its fleshy neck had no face to show, only four luminescent sage orbs that were its unnatural, unblinking eyes. But perhaps the most distinguishing feature was that of the creature's arms. The left bore a weighty I-shaped pavise shield, pointed at both ends along with a thick octagonal pauldron upon its shoulder. The other arm was equally as fearsome, itself being nothing but a great cannon with pustule like containers along its forearm bearing sickly green liquid that glowed with a deadly radioactive light.

"Hunters!" Cortana said.

The eldar aboard the _Cairo_ had been informed of these monstrous colonial organisms but being face-to-face with not just one but two was another matter entirely. The creatures shook their armored spines in time with their unearthly bellows. In response, the Chief fired off a bolt searing light into one Hunter's helmet to disconcertingly little effect. It seemed the eldar long rifle's power was not as indomitable as John had first judged it to be. Indeed, it had not even done so much as slow the creature from raising its shield and bringing its assault cannon to bear with a growing whine, as did its bond-brother in kind.

"Get clear!" the Chief warned a second prior to both he and the Guardians threw themselves backward, out of reach of the thick caustic beams that boiled away long curving lines of the balcony and more importantly, the machinegun that would have been a boon to helping take out the Hunters.

Then with perhaps good or bad timing, the rear gate at the end of the courtyard blew open to reveal Lenrys and the rest of the squad of Black Guardians, come again to their aid were it not for their lack of heavy weapons needed to combat the hulking Hunters that now turn to face them. The Master Chief rose to see the Warlock lay a storm of psychic lightening upon the left Hunter, doing as little damage as the eldar rifle had upon the thick plates of nanolaminate armor. Both retaliated with their assault cannons, blasting their streams of death at the eldar. Many were able to dodge the curving streams by ducking back through the gateway or flinging themselves narrowly around the curving streams into the courtyard and upon the slanted belly of the crashed Phantom. Two of the Guardians however, did not gain refuge, finding themselves trapped against the wall of buildings with no escape save for the hope that they could slay the menacing behemoths. It was a desperate and ultimately futile effort that ended with them engulfed by the immolating molten beam.

"I'll take one, focus on the other!" The Chief said, reacting immediately. The Spartan threw himself off the balcony, the clash of his boots on concrete drawing the attention of the Hunter on his right, twisting its body of worms around to put him in the sights of its assault cannon. The weapon ethereally howled as it spat its beam, only to witness the Spartan throw himself over it, skidding onto his armored knees to the Hunter's immediate left.

At the same time behind it, the other Hunter took a broad volley of exotic blades to its back from the Spartan's three Guardian allies, wounding it, but not fatally so. It too turned away from the scattered Black Guardian squad in the face of what it perceived to be the more immediate threat as to hide its one vulnerability. But it had done nothing but fallen for a ruse when came the Warlock's singing spear to impale itself into the open flesh of the Hunter's back. Its body trembled, the vibrations of dozens of worms creating a barely recognizable animalistic wail of pain, felt through the rudimentary psychic link by its bond-brother, causing it to go into a rage it directed at the Spartan.

The Hunter charged its left shoulder forward and John leapt right once more to avoid the ten-thousand-pound beast but the Hunter shifted its foot at the last second, the reaction time a benefit of a colonial nervous system. The pavise shield smacking him in his side mid-air, tossing him a couple more meters than he intended while almost entirely depleting his shield as the panicking alarm inside his helmet alerted him of. Around him, the squad of eldar were recovering from the Hunter's counterassault on their attempted rescue, firing their shuriken catapults on the wounded Hunter and eviscerating the exposed area of its back, toppling the armored giant to the ground.

John's Hunter bellowed far more intensely now that it had lost its brother, entering the berserker-like state they were known for under these circumstances. It came at the Master Chief with its boots stamping heavily upon the ground under its immense weight, but this time he was ready. John dropped the eldar rifle and pulled a combat knife in its place while the Hunter raised its shield high like a sledge hammer. The shield struck naught but stone as the Spartan twisted aside in the zen-like Spartan-time. With grace, few of the assembled eldar had witnessed, the Spartan ran up the planted shield in two great strides before delivering his right knee into the side of its face, momentarily stunning the worms that made it up. The knife swung up under the helmet's lip, prying it back far enough for John to shove the armed grenade he held in his other hand down into the Hunter's enclosed chest cavity. The eldar watched the Spartan launch himself away in a long flip that landed him three meters from the Hunter a close second before the grenade detonated with a low thump, launching a pureed fountain of luminescent-orange blood and flesh seven feet into the air. The half-empty armor clattered to the ground a moment later.

"And _that_ Marines, is how. it's. DONE!" Johnson declared pridefully as he came from the atrium's wide lower doorway with the two remaining Marines in tow, holding the injured Ranger up by his arms between them.

Now that all threats had been neutralized, Cortana's voice returned. "Second squad, this is Cortana. What's your status, over?"

 **Author's Note: Well I hope you enjoyed the opening skirmish of the Battle of New Mombasa, next time we'll spend A Day At The Beach.**

 **To Zeus501: Oh I dot my I's!**


End file.
